Things 
Equal 


Emma  Wolf 


GIFT   OF 


. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


OTHEFL  THINGS 
BEING  EQUAL 


BY 

EMMA  WOLF 

Author  of  "Joy  of  Life,"  "  Heirs  of  Yesterday," 
"Fulfilment,  "etc. 


And  now  abideth  Faith,  Hope,  Love,  these  three; 
but  the  greatest  of  these  is  Love." 


CHICAGO 
A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 

1916 


Copyright 

A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 
1892—1916 


W.  F.  HALL  PRINTING  COMPANY,  CHICAGO 


FOREWORD 

IN  presenting  this  revised  edition  to  a  new  gen 
eration,  the  author  feels  that  the  element  of 
change  has  touched  very  lightly  the  romantic  poten 
tialities  obtaining  at  the  time  of  the  original  writ 
ing,  and  which  still  obtain.  Christian  youth  still 
chances  upon  Jewish  youth,  with  the  same  dif 
ference  of  historic  background,  the  same  social 
barriers  and  prejudices  —  the  same  possibilities  of 
mutual  attraction.  The  humanest  love  knows  no 
sect.  Only  in  one  respect  has  the  face  of  youth 
altered  —  to  wit,  in  the  ignoring  of  the  Fifth 
Commandment.  Twenty  years  ago  that  Command 
ment  was,  to  the  child,  the  paramount  Command 
ment,  beautiful  in  concept,  but  carrying  in  its  results 
many  a  silent  tragedy.  Today  the  dominance  of 
the  individualistic  creed  with  its  substituted  "  Honor 
Thy  Self  "  holds  no  such  tears  of  renunciation, 
but,  with  the  passing  of  that  older  order,  has  there 
not  passed  a  beauty  from  the  world  ?  It  is  the  story 
of  that  beauty  which  the  author,  in  this  revised 
edition,  for  a  new  generation,  has  not  cared  to 
revise. 

EMMA  WOLF. 
San  Francisco,  1916. 


34065 


Other  Things  Being  Equal 


CHAPTER  I 

A  HUMMING  BIRD  dipped  through  the  air 
and  lit  upon  the  palm  tree  just  below  the  open 
window,  the  long,  drowsy  call  of  a  crowing  cock 
came  from  afar  off ;  up  through  a  hazy  splendor  the 
city  lifted  its  jocund  hills.  It  was  a  rarely  beau 
tiful  summer  afternoon  in  old  San  Francisco. 

Ruth  Levice  sat  near  the  window,  lazily  rocking. 
Peculiarly  responsive  to  her  environment,  mercuri- 
ally  so  to  mood  of  day  or  hour,  the  soft,  languorous 
air  had,  unconsciously  to  herself,  borne  her  to  dim, 
far  scenes  where  life  sped  in  eternal  summer,  vague 
indeed,  but  instinct  with  all  the  indefinable  joy  and 
romance  of  youth. 

So  removed  was  she  in  spirit  from  her  surround 
ings  that  she  heard  with  an  obvious  start  a  knock 
at  the  door.  The  knock  was  immediately  followed 
by  a  smiling,  plump  young  woman,  sparkling  of  eye, 
rosy  of  cheek,  glistening  in  jewels  and  silk. 

l 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


"  Here  you  are,  Ruth,"  she  exclaimed,  and  kissed 
her  heartily;  whereupon  she  sank  into  a  chair  and 
threw  back  her  bonnet  strings  with  an  air  of  relief. 
"  I  came  up  here  at  once  when  the  maid  said  your 
mother  was  out.  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  Out  calling.  You  look  so  warm,  Jennie ;  let  me 
fan  you." 

"Thanks.  Oh,  how  refreshing!  Sandalwood, 
isn't  it?  Where's  your  father?  " 

"  He's  writing  in  the  library.  Do  you  want  to 
see  him?" 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  I  must  see  you  alone.  I'm  so  glad 
Aunt  Esther  is  out.  Why  aren't  you  with  her, 
Ruth  ?  You  shouldn't  let  your  mother  go  off  alone." 

The  young  girl  laughed  in  merry  surprise. 

"  Why,  Jennie,  you  forgot  that  mamma  has  been 
used  all  her  life  to  going  out  without  me;  it's  only 
within  the  last  few  months  that  we've  been  such 
close  companions." 

"  I  know,"  replied  her  visitor,  leaning  back  with 
a  grim  expression  of  disapproval,  "  and  I  think  it's 
the  queerest  arrangement  I  ever  heard  of.  The 
idea  of  a  father  having  the  sole  care  of  a  daughter 
up  to  her  twenty-first  birthday,  and  then  delivering 
her,  like  a  piece  of  joint  property,  over  to  her 
mother !  Oh,  I  know  that,  according  to  their  lights, 
it  didn't  seem  absurd,  but  the  very  idea  of  it  is  con- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


trary  to  nature.  Of  course  we  all  know  that  your 
father  was  peculiarly  fitted  to  undertake  your 
training  and,  in  that  way,  your  mother  could  more 
easily  indulge  in  her  love  of  society.  But  as  it  is, 
no  wonder  she's  as  jealous  of  your  success  in  her 
realm  as  your  father  was  in  his;  no  wonder  she 
overdoes  things  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  How 
do  you  like  it,  Ruth?" 

"What?"  softly  inquired  her  cousin,  slowly 
waving  the  dainty  fan,  while  a  smile  lighted  up  the 
gravity  of  her  face  at  this  onslaught. 

"  Going  out  continually,  night  after  night." 

"  Mamma  likes  it." 

"  Cela  va  sans  dire.  But,  Ruth  —  stop  fanning 
a  minute,  please  —  I  want  to  know,  candidly  and 
seriously,  would  you  mind  giving  it  up?  " 

"  Candidly  and  seriously,  I  would  do  so  today 
forever." 

'  Ye-es ;  your  father's  daughter,"  said  Mrs. 
Lewis,  speaking  more  slowly,  her  bright  eyes  noting 
the  perfect  repose  of  the  young  girl's  person. 
"  And  yet  you  are  having  some  quiet  little  con 
quests  —  the  golden  apples  of  your  mother's 
Hesperides.  But  to  come  to  the  point,  do  you  realize 
that  your  mother  is  very  ill  ?  " 

"  111  —  my  mother  ?  "  The  sudden  look  of  con 
sternation  shattering  the  soft  tranquillity  of  her 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


face  must  have  fully  repaid  Mrs.  Lewis  if  she  was 
aiming  at  a  sensation. 

"  There,  sit  down.  Don't  be  alarmed ;  you  know 
she's  out  and  apparently  well." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  I  mean  that  Aunt  Esther  is  nervous  and  hysteri 
cal.  The  other  day  at  our  house  she  had  such  an 
attack  of  hysteria  that  I  had  to  call  in  a  neighbor 
ing  doctor.  She  begged  us  not  to  mention  it  to 
either  of  you,  and  then  insisted  on  going  to  a 
meeting  of  some  sort.  However,  I  thought  it  over 
and  decided  to  let  you  know,  because  I  consider  it 
serious.  I  was  afraid  to  alarm  Uncle,  so  I  thought 
of  telling  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Jennie ;  I  shall  speak  to  father 
about  it."  The  young  girl's  tone  was  quite  unagi- 
tated,  but  two  pink  spots  on  her  usually  colorless 
cheeks  betrayed  her  emotion. 

"  That's  right,  dear.  I  hope  you'll  forgive  me 
if  I  seem  meddlesome,  but  Jo  and  I  have  noticed  it 
for  some  time,  and  your  father,  by  allowing  this 
continual  gayety,  seems  to  have  overlooked  what 
we  find  so  sadly  apparent.  Of  course  you  have  an 
engagement  for  tonight?" 

"  Yes ;  we're  going  to  a  reception  at  the 
Merrills'." 

"Christians?"  came  the  sharp  challenge. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


"  The  name  speaks  for  itself." 

"  What  does  possess  your  parents  to  mix  so  much 
with  Christians  ?  " 

"  Fellow-feeling,  I  suppose.  We  all  dance  and 
talk  alike;  and  as  we  don't  hold  services  at  recep 
tions,  wherein  lies  the  difference?" 

"  There  is  a  difference ;  and  the  Christians  know 
it  as  well  as  we  Jewish  people.  Not  only  do  they 
know  it,  but  they  show  it  in  countless  ways;  and 
the  difference,  they  think,  is  all  to  their  credit.  For 
my  part,  I  always  feel  as  if  they  looked  down  on 
us,  and  I  should  like  to  prove  to  them  how  we  differ 
on  that  point.  I  have  enough  courage  to  let  them 
know  I  consider  myself  as  good  as  the  best  of 
them." 

"  Is  that  why  you  wear  diamonds  on  the  street, 
Jennie  ?  "  asked  Ruth,  her  serious  tone  implying 
no  impudence  but  carrying  a  pointed  reproach.  In 
the  declining  years  of  the  nineteenth  century  good 
taste  had  decreed  a  quieter,  more  conventionally 
unobtrusive  fashion  in  woman's  street  attire  than 
obtains  in  these  resplendent  days  of  luxury  and 
caprice. 

"  Hardly.  I  wear  them  because  I  have  them  and 
like  them.  I  see  no  harm  in  wearing  what  is 
becoming." 

"  But  don't  you  think  they  attract  attention  on 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


the  street?  One  hates  to  be  conspicuous.  I  think 
they  are  only  in  place  at  a  gathering  of  friends  of 
one's  own  social  standing,  where  they  don't  proclaim 
one's  moneyed  value." 

"  Perhaps,"  replied  Mrs.  Lewis,  her  rosy  face  a 
little  rosier  than  before.  "  I  suppose  you  mean  to 
say  it's  vulgar.  Well,  maybe  so.  But  I  scarcely 
think  a  little  outward  show  of  riches  should  make 
others  feel  they're  superior  because  they  don't  care 
to  make  a  display.  Besides,  to  be  less  personal,  I 
don't  think  any  Christian  \vould  care  to  put  himself 
out  to  meet  a  Jew  of  any  description." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  depend  a  great  deal 
both  on  Jew  and  Christian?  I've  always  been  led 
to  believe  that  a  broad-minded  man  of  whatever 
sect  will  recognize  and  honor  the  same  quality  in 
any  other  man.  And  why  shouldn't  I  move  on  an 
equality  with  my  Christian  friends?  We  have  had 
the  same  schooling,  speak  the  same  language,  read 
the  same  books,  are  surrounded  by  the  same  ele 
ments  of  home  refinement.  Probably  if  they  had 
not  been  congenial,  my  father  would  long  ago  have 
ceased  to  associate  with  them.  I  think  the  secret 
of  it  all  is  in  the  fact  that  it  never  occurred  to  us 
that  the  most  fastidious  could  think  we  were  any 
thing  but  the  most  fastidious;  and  so  we  always 
met  anyone  we  cared  to  meet  on  a  level  footing.  I 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


have  a  great  many  pleasant  friends  in  the  court  of 
your  Philistines." 

"  Possibly.  But  not  having  been  brought  up  by 
your  father,  I  think  differently,  and  perhaps  am  as 
different  as  they  think  I  am.  Their  ways  are  not 
my  ways,  and  what  good  can  you  expect  from  such 
association?  " 

"  Why,  pleasant  companionship.     What  more  ?  " 
"  Not  even  that.     But  tell  me,  can't  you  dissuade 
Aunt  Esther  from  going  tonight  ?    Tell  your  father, 
and  let  him  judge  if  you'd  better  not." 

"  I  really  think  mamma  wouldn't  care  to  go,  she 
said  as  much  to  father;  but,  contrary  to  all  prece 
dent,  he  insists  on  our  going  tonight,  and,  what's 
more,   intends  to  go  with  us,   although  Louis  is 
going  too.     But  if  you  think  she's  seriously  run 
down,  I'll  tell  him  at  once  and  —  " 
A  blithe  voice  at  the  door  interrupted  her,  calling : 
"Open  the  door,  Ruth;  my  hands  are  full." 
She  rose  hastily  and,  with  a  signal  of  secrecy  to 
her  loquacious   cousin,   opened   the   door   for   her 
mother. 

"  Ah,  Jennie !  How  are  you,  dear  ?  But  let's 
open  this  box  —  Nora  just  handed  it  to  me  — 
before  we  consider  you."  Mrs.  Levice  softly 
deposited  a  huge  box  upon  Ruth's  lace-enveloped 
bed. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


She  was  still  bonneted  and  gloved  and,  with  a 
slight  flush  in  her  clear  olive  cheek,  she  looked  any 
thing  but  a  subject  for  fears.  From  the  crown  of 
her  dainty  bonnet  to  the  point  of  her  boot  she  was 
the  picture  of  exquisite  well-being;  tall,  beautifully 
formed,  carrying  herself  with  proud  graciousness, 
gowned  in  perfect,  quiet  elegance,  she  appeared 
more  as  an  older  sister  than  as  Ruth's  mother. 

"  Ruth's  gown  for  this  evening,'*  she  announced, 
deftly  unfolding  the  wrappings. 

'  Yellow !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lewis,  in  surprise. 

"  Corn-color,"  corrected  Mrs.  Levice,  playfully 
exact.  "  How  do  you  think  it  will  suit  her  ?  "  She 
shook  out  the  clinging  silken  crepe. 

"Charmingly;  but  I  thought  Ruth  objected  to 
anything  but  white." 

"  So  she  does ;  she  thinks  white  keeps  her  un 
noticed  among  the  rest.  This  time,  however,  my 
will  overrode  hers.  Didn't  it,  daughter  ?  " 

The  girl  made  a  mock  courtesy. 

"  I'm  only  lady-in-waiting  to  your  majesty,  O 
queen!"  she  laughed,  scarcely  aware  of  what  she 
said,  wholly  lost  in  a  silent  scrutiny  of  her 
mother's  face. 

"  And  how's  our  prime  minister  this  afternoon?  " 
Mrs.  Levice  was  drawing  off  her  gloves,  and  Ruth's 
searching  look  passed  unnoticed. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 


"  I  haven't  been  down  since  luncheon,"  she  said. 

"What!  Then  go  down  at  once  and  bring  him 
up.  I  must  see  that  he  gets  clothed  in  festive  mind 
for  this  evening.  Come  to  my  sitting-room,  Jennie, 
and  we  can  have  a  comfortable  chat." 

Left  to  herself,  Ruth  hesitated  before  going  to 
her  father  with  her  ill-boding  tidings.  None  knew 
better  than  she  of  the  great,  silent  love  binding  her 
parents.  As  a  quiet,  observant  child,  she  had  often 
questioned  wherein  could  be  any  sympathy  between 
her  father,  almost  old,  studious,  and  reserved,  and 
her  beautiful,  worldly  young  mother.  But  as  she 
matured,  she  became  conscious  that,  because  of  this 
apparent  disparity,  it  would  have  been  still  stranger 
had  Mrs.  Levice  not  loved  him  with  a  feeling  verg 
ing  nearer  humble  adoration  than  any  lower  pas 
sion.  It  seemed  almost  a  mockery  for  her  to  have 
to  tell  him  he  had  been  negligent  —  not  only  a 
mockery,  but  a  cruelty.  However,  it  had  to  be 
done,  and  she  was  the  only  one  to  do  it.  Having 
come  to  this  conclusion,  she  ran  quickly  downstairs, 
and  softly,  without  knocking,  opened  the  library 
door. 

She  entered  so  quietly  that  Mr.  Levice,  reading 
by  the  window,  did  not  glance  from  his  book.  She 
stood  a  moment  regarding  the  small,  thoughtful- 
faced,  white-haired  man. 


10  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

If  one  were  to  judge  but  by  results,  Jules  Levice 
would  have  been  accounted  a  fortunate  man.  Near- 
ing  the  allotted  three-score  and  ten,  blessed  with  a 
loving,  beloved  wife  and  this  one  idolized  ewe-lamb, 
surrounded  by  luxury,  in  good  health,  honored,  and 
honorable  —  trouble  and  travail  seemed  to  have 
passed  him  by.  But  this  scene  of  human  happiness 
was  wholly  the  result  of  intelligent  and  unremitting 
effort.  He  had  been  thrown  on  the  world  when  a 
boy  of  twelve.  He  had  resolved  to  become  happy. 
Many  of  us  do  likewise;  but  he  had  not  overlooked 
the  fact  that  men  are  provided  with  feet,  not  wings, 
and  cannot  fly  to  the  goal.  His  dream  of  happiness 
had  been  ambitious;  it  had  soared  beyond  content 
ment.  Not  being  a  lily  of  the  field,  he  had  known 
that  he  must  toil ;  any  honest  work  had  been  accept 
able  to  him.  He  was  possessed  of  a  fine  mind;  he 
had  found  the  means  to  cultivate  it.  He  had  a  keen 
observation ;  he  became  a  student  of  his  f ellowmen ; 
and,  being  strong  and  untiring,  he  had  become  rich. 
This  had  been  but  the  nucleus  of  his  ambitions,  and 
it  came  to  him  late,  but  not  too  late  for  him  to  build 
round  it  his  happy  home,  and  to  surround  himself 
with  the  luxuries  of  leisure  for  attaining  that  wide 
information  which  he  had  always  craved.  His  was 
merely  the  prosperity  of  an  intellectual,  self-made 
man  whose  time  for  rest  had  come. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  11 

Ruth  seated  herself  on  a  low  stool  which  she 
drew  up  before  him,  and  laid  her  hand  upon  his. 

"You,  darling?"  He  spoke  in  a  full,  musical 
voice  with  a  marked  French  accent. 

"Can  you  spare  me  a  few  minutes,  father?" 

"  I  am  all  ears."  He  shut  the  book,  and  his  hand 
closed  about  hers. 

"  Jennie  was  here  just  now." 

"  And  did  not  come  in  to  see  me?  " 

"  She  had  something  to  tell  me." 

"A  secret?" 

"  Yes ;  something  I  must  repeat  to  you." 

"Yes?" 

"  Father  —  Jennie  thinks  —  she  has  reason  to 
know  that  —  dear,  do  you  think  mother  is  perfectly 
well?" 

"  No,  my  child ;  I  know  she  is  not." 

This  quiet  assurance  was  staggering. 

"  And  you  allow  her  to  go  on  in  this  way  without 
calling  in  a  doctor?"  A  wave  of  indignant  color 
suffused  her  cheeks. 

"  Yes." 

"  But  —  but  —  why  ?  "  She  became  a  little  con 
fused  under  his  calm  gaze,  feeling  on  the  instant 
that  she  had  implied  an  accusation  unjustly. 

"  Because,  Ruth,  I  wished  to  be  quite  sure  before 
interfering,  and  I  have  become  convinced  of  it 


12  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

only  within  the  past  week.  Your  mother  knows  it 
herself,  and  is  trying  to  hide  it  from  me." 

"Did  she  admit  it?" 

"  I  have  not  spoken  of  it  to  her;  she  is  very  excit 
able,  and  as  she  wishes  to  conceal  it,  I  don't  care 
to  annoy  her  by  telling  her  of  my  discovery." 

"  But  isn't  it  wrong  —  unwise  —  to  allow  her  to 
dissipate  so  much?" 

"  I  have  managed  within  the  past  week  to  keep 
you  as  quiet  as  possible." 

"  But  tonight  —  forgive  me,  father  —  you  insist 
on  our  going  to  this  reception." 

"Yes,  my  sweet  confessor;  but  I  have  a  good 
reason  —  one  not  to  be  spoken  of." 

"  '  Those  who  trust  us  educate  us,'  "  she  pleaded 
in  wistful  earnestness. 

"  Then  your  education  is  complete.  Well,  I  knew 
your  mother  would  resist  seeing  any  physician,  for 
fear  of  his  measures  going  contrary  to  her  desires, 
so  I  have  planned  for  her  to  meet  tonight  a  certain 
doctor  whom  I  would  trust  professionally  with  my 
wife's  life,  and  on  whom  I  can  rely  for  the  neces 
sary  tact  to  hide  the  professional  object  of  their 
meeting.  What  do  you  think  of  my  way,  dear?  " 

She  stooped  and  kissed  his  hand. 

"May  I  know  his  name?"  she  asked  after  a 
pause. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  13 

"  His  name  is  Kemp  —  Dr.  Herbert  Kemp." 

"  Why,  he  lives  a  few  blocks  from  here  —  I've 
seen  his  sign.  Is  he  —  old?" 

"  I  should  judge  him  to  be  between  thirty-five 
and  forty.  Not  old  certainly,  but  one  with  the 
highest  reputation  for  skill.  Personally  he  is  a 
man  of  great  dignity  —  he  inspires  confidence  in 
everyone." 

"  Where  did  you  meet  him?  " 

"  In  the  hospitals,"  said  her  father  quickly.  "  But 
I  will  introduce  him  to  you  tonight.  Don't  lose  your 
head  when  you  talk  to  him." 

"Why  should  I?" 

"  Because  he  is  a  magnificent  fellow ;  and  I  wish 
my  daughter  to  hold  her  own  before  a  man  whom 
I  admire  so  heartily." 

"  Why,  this  is  the  first  time  you've  ever  given  me 
worldly  advice,"  she  laughed. 

"  Only  a  friendly  hint,"  he  answered,  rising  and 
putting  his  book  in  its  place  with  the  precision  of 
a  spinster. 


CHAPTER  II 

HERBERT  KEMP  stood  looking  down  upon 
the  golden-haired  slip  of  a  girl  seated  upon 
a  divan  near  the  conservatory.  The  soft  strains 
of  remote  stringed  instruments  chimed  in  harmoni 
ously  with  their  low-voiced  converse,  and  he 
listened  with  evident  enjoyment  to  her  incessant 
babble,  the  naivete  of  which  was  somewhat,  belied 
by  the  bright-glancing  search  of  her  regard. 

"  And  you  don't  feel  like  the  proverbial  square 
peg?  "  she  insisted. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  he  returned.  "  I  feel  singularly  fit 
—  and  fitting.  Won't  I  do  ?  " 

"  But  you're  so  —  rare.  How  did  Mrs.  Merrill 
bait  you  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that  was  a  trick,"  he  teased. 

"  I  thought  so.  She  has  a  knack  in  getting  whom 
ever  she  wants,  and  she  so  often  wants  the  elusive 
and  —  unusual.  She  loves  a  rara  avis,  and  you're 
one  of  them  tonight.  I  think  I  met  you  out  only 
once  last  winter.  This  must  seem  like  a  sort  of 
debut  to  you." 

14 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  15 

"  It  does  —  with  you  beside  me." 

"  Thanks  - —  and  you  who  so  hate  debutantes !  " 

"Who's  been  maligning  me?" 

"  No  one.  Everybody  knows  your  good  taste  in 
the  —  more-seasoned." 

He  laughed  his  amazement.  "  That's  queer,"  he 
said.  "  I  didn't  know  I  had  any  taste.  But  since 
you  say  so  there  must  be  something  in  it.  Not 
everything,  though." 

She  flushed  delightedly  under  his  eyes.  She  knew 
her  own  girlish  charms. 

"  Well,  then,"  she  mused,  "  perhaps  it's  'the  mar- 
rieds' '  good  taste  in  you.  If  you  would  look  round 
now  —  but  don't !  —  you'd  see  Mrs.  Sherwood  — 
is  she  a  patient  of  yours?  —  gazing  dreamily 
through  us  as  if  we  were  so  much  space,  but  all 
the  while  she's  saying,  '  You  silly  little  thing, 
Dorothy  Gwynne!  Can't  you  see  you're  boring 
Dr.  Kemp  ?  Hand  him  over  —  pass  him  round  — 
7  want  him !  " 

Kemp's  lips  twitched  at  the  corners.  "  Aren't 
you  improvising?  "  he  asked.  "  Nobody  is  of  such 
importance  to  anyone." 

"  That  depends  on  who's  who.  Now  here  comes 
the  Queen  of  Sheba  —  and  —  and  —  shall  we  say 
King  Solomon?  You'll  admit  they  are  of  some 
importance.  At  least  she  is  —  to  me." 


16  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

She  broke  off  with  an  expectant  smile  as  Ruth 
Levice  approached  with  her  cousin,  Louis  Arnold. 

Singly,  each  would  have  attracted  attention  any 
where;  together  they  were  doubly  striking-looking. 
Arnold,  tall  and  slight,  carrying  his  head  high,  fair 
of  complexion  as  a  peachy-cheeked  girl,  was  a 
peculiarly  distinguished-looking  man.  The  delicate 
pince-nez  he  wore  emphasized  slightly  the  elusive 
air  of  supercilious  courtliness  he  always  conveyed. 
Now,  as  he  spoke  to  Ruth,  who,  although  a  tall  girl, 
was  some  inches  shorter  than  he,  he  maintained  a 
strict  perpendicular  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to 
his  heels,  only  looking  down  with  his  eyes.  Short 
women  resented  this  trick  of  his,  protesting  that  it 
made  them  stand  on  tiptoe  to  speak  to  him. 

There  was  something  faintly  oriental  about  Ruth, 
with  her  colorless  face,  creamy  as  a  magnolia  blos 
som.  Her  dusky  hair  was  loosely  rolled  from  her 
forehead  and  temples;  her  eyes,  soft  and  brown 
beneath  delicately  penciled  brows,  matched  the  pure 
oval  of  her  face.  But  the  languorous  air  of  Eastern 
skies  was  wholly  wanting  in  the  sweet  sympathy 
of  her  glance,  and  in  a  certain  alertness  about  the 
poise  of  her  head. 

Arnold  stopped  perforce  at  Miss  Gwynne's  slight 
signal. 

"  Where   are   you  going?"   she   asked   as   they 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  17 

turned  to  greet  her.  "  One  would  think  you  saw 
the  fates  before  you,  you're  so  oblivious  to  the 
beauties  lying  in  wait."  She  looked  up  at  Arnold, 
after  one  comprehensive  glance  over  the  palely 
golden  shimmer  of  Ruth's  gown. 

"  We  both  wished  to  see  the  orchids  of  which  one 
hears,"  he  answered  with  pronounced  French  accent 
and  idiom,  adding,  with  a  slight  smile,  "  I  did  not 
overlook  you,  but  you  were  so  busily  contemplat 
ing  other  ground  that  it  would  have  been  cruelty  to 
disturb  you."  He  spoke  the  language  slowly,  as  a 
stranger  upon  foreign  ground. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  forgot.  Dr.  Kemp,  the  Queen  of 
Sheba  and  her  sworn  knight,  Louis,  surnamed 
Arnold."  She  paused  a  moment  as  the  parties 
amusedly  acknowledged  the  fantastic  introduction, 
and  then  broke  in,  rather  breathlessly :  "  There, 
doctor,  I'll  leave  you  with  royalty;  don't  let  your 
republican  ignorance  forget  her  proper  title.  Mr. 
Arnold,  Mrs.  Merrill  wants  us;  will  you  come?" 
With  an  impish  look  at  Ruth,  she  drew  Arnold 
away  before  he  could  murmur  an  excuse. 

At  the  flippant  words  the  soft,  rich  blood  suffused 
Ruth's  face. 

"  Will  you  sit  here  a  while  and  wait  for  Mr. 
Arnold,  or  shall  we  go  and  see  the  orchids  ?  "  The 
pleasant,  deep  voice  broke  in  upon  her  confusion 


18  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

and  calmed  her  self -consciousness.  She  raised  her 
eyes  to  the  dark  face  above  her.  It  was  a  strong 
rather  than  a  handsome  face.  From  the  broad 
sweep  of  the  forehead  above  the  steady  scrutiny  of 
the  gray  eyes  to  the  grave  lip  and  firm  chin  under 
the  short  pointed  beard,  strength  and  gentleness 
spoke  in  every  line.  His  personality  bore  the  stamp 
of  a  letter  of  credit. 

"Thank  you,"  said  she;  "I  think  I'll  sit  here. 
My  cousin  will  probably  be  back  soon." 

The  doctor  seated  himself  beside  her.  Miss 
Gwynne's  appellation  was  not  inaptly  chosen,  still 
he  would  have  preferred  to  know  her  more  conven 
tional  title. 

"  This  is  a  peaceful  little  corner,"  he  said.  "  Do 
you  notice  how  removed  it  seems  from  the  rest  of 
the  room  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  meeting  and  disconcerting 
his  pleasantly  questioning  look  with  one  of  swift 
resolve.  "  Dr.  Kemp,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  my 
father  has  confided  to  me  your  joint  secret." 

"  Your  father  ? "  he  looked  bewildered ;  his 
knowledge  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba's  progenitors  was 
vague. 

"  My  father,  yes,"  she  repeated,  smiling  over  his 
perplexity.  "  Our  name  is  not  very  common ;  I'm 
Jules  Levice's  daughter." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  19 

He  was  about  to  exclaim  "  No !  "  The  kinship 
seemed  ridiculous  in  the  face  of  this  lovely  girl  and 
the  remembered  picture  of  the  little  plain-faced  Jew. 
What  he  did  say  was: 

"  Mr.  Levice  is  an  esteemed  friend  of  mine. 
He's  here  this  evening,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Have  you  met  my  mother  yet?  " 

The  mother  would  probably  unravel  the  mys 
terious  origin  of  this  beautiful  face  and  this  strange, 
sweet  voice,  whose  tones  held  an  uncommon  charm. 

"  No ;  but  your  father  is  diplomat  enough  to 
manage  that  before  the  evening  is  over.  So  you 
know  our  little  scheme.  Pardon  the  *  shop  '  I'll 
have  to  bore  you  with,  but  have  you  seen  any  signs 
of  illness  in  your  mother?" 

"No;  I've  been  very  blind  and  selfish,"  she 
replied,  somewhat  bitterly.  "  Everyone  but  myself 
seems  to  have  seen  that  something  was  wrong.  She 
has  been  very  anxious  to  give  me  pleasure,  and  I'm 
afraid  she's  been  burning  the  candle  at  both  ends 
for  my  light.  I  wish  I  had  known  —  probably  it 
lay  just  within  my  hand  to  prevent  this,  instead  of 
leading  her  on  by  my  often  expressed  delight. 
What  I  want  to  ask  you  is  that  if  you  find  anything 
serious,  you'll  tell  me,  and  quiet  my  father's  fears 
as  much  as  possible.  Please  do  this  for  me.  My 
father  isn't  young,  and  I,  I  think,  am  trustworthy." 


20  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

She  had  spoken  rapidly,  but  with  convincing 
sincerity,  looking  her  companion  full  in  the  face. 

The  doctor  quietly  scrutinized  the  earnest  young 
face  before  he  answered.  Then  he  slightly  bowed 
in  acquiescence. 

"That's  a  pact,"  he  said  lightly,  "but  in  all 
probability  your  father's  fears  are  exaggerated." 

"  '  Where  love  is  great,  the  littlest  doubts  are 
fears,'  "  she  quoted,  softly  flushing.  The  doctor 
had  a  singular,  impersonal  habit  of  keeping  his  eyes 
intently  bent  upon  the  person  with  whom  he  con 
versed,  which  made  his  companion  feel  that  they 
two  were  exclusively  alone  —  a  sensation  slightly 
bewildering  upon  first  acquaintance.  By  and  by 
one  understood  that  it  was  merely  his  air  of  interest 
which  evoked  the  feeling,  and  so  gradually  got  used 
to  it  as  to  one  of  his  features. 

"  That's  true,"  he  replied  cheerily;  "  and  —  I  see 
someone  is  going  to  play.  Mrs.  Merrill  told  me  we 
should  have  some  music." 

"It's  Louis,  I  think;  I  know  his  touch." 

"Your  cousin?    He  plays?" 

Ruth  looked  at  him  in  questioning  wonder.  Truth 
to  say,  the  doctor  could  not  but  betray  his  surprise 
over  the  idea  of  the  cold-looking  Arnold  in  the 
light  of  a  musician.  But  his  doubts  took  instant 
flight  after  the  opening  chords.  He  played  Chopin, 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  21 

played  him  with  all  the  poignant  passion,  all  the 
poetic  imagery  and  tragedy,  of  that  tragic  fount 
of  music. 

"  An  artist/'  said  someone  standing  near. 

"  Something  more,"  murmured  Kemp,  rising  as 
he  saw  Ruth  do  so.  He  was  about  to  offer  her  his 
arm  when  Mrs.  Merrill,  a  gentle-faced  woman, 
stepped  up  to  them,  and  laying  her  hand  upon 
Ruth's  shoulder,  said  rather  hurriedly: 

"  I'm  sorry  to  trouble  you,  doctor,  but  Mrs. 
Levice  —  don't  be  alarmed,  Ruth  dear  —  has  be 
come  somewhat  hysterical,  and  we  can't  calm  her. 
Will  you  come  this  way,  please,  and  no  one  need 
know.  She's  in  the  study." 

They  turned  with  her,  through  the  conservatory, 
and  so  across  the  hall. 

."  I'll  be  here,  doctor,  if  you  need  anything,"  said 
Mrs.  Merrill,  standing  without,  as  he  and  Ruth 
entered,  and  immediately  shutting  the  door  after 
them. 

"  Stay  there,"  he  said  with  quiet  authority  to 
Ruth,  and  she  stood  quite  still  where  he  left  her. 
Mrs.  Levice  was  seated  in  a  large  easy-chair,  her 
back  to  the  door.  Her  husband  had  drawn  her  head 
to  his  bosom.  There  was  no  one  else  in  the  room, 
and,  for  a  second,  not  a  sound,  till  Mrs.  Levice 
began  to  sob  in  a  frightened  manner. 


22  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  It's  nothing  at  all,  Jules,"  she  cried,  trying  to 
laugh  and  failing  lamentably.  "I  —  I'm  only 
silly." 

"  There,  dear,  don't  talk."  Levice's  face  was 
white  as  he  soothingly  stroked  her  hair. 

"O-o-oh!" 

The  doctor  stepped  in  front  of  them,  and  laying 
both  hands  upon  her  shoulders,  motioned  Levice 
aside. 

"Hush!    Not  a  word!" 

At  the  sound  of  his  stern,  brusque  voice,  the  long, 
quivering  shriek  stopped  halfway. 

"  Be  perfectly  still,"  he  continued,  holding  her 
firmly.  "  Obey  this  instant."  She  began  to  whim 
per.  "  Not  a  sound  now." 

Ruth  and  her  father  stood  spellbound  at  the  effect 
of  the  stranger's  measures.  For  a  moment  Mrs. 
Levice  had  started  in  affright  to  scream;  but  the 
cool,  commanding  tone,  the  powerful  hands  upon 
her  shoulders,  the  impressive,  unswerving  eye  hold 
ing  hers,  soon  began  to  act  hypnotically.  The 
sobbing  gradually  ceased,  the  shaking  limbs  slowly 
regained  their  calm,  and  as  she  sank  upon  the 
cushions  the  strained  look  in  her  eyes  melted.  She 
was  feebly  smiling  up  at  the  doctor  in  response  to 
his  own  persuasive  smile  which  gradually  succeeded 
the  gravity  of  his  countenance. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  23 

"  That's  right,"  he  said,  speaking  soothingly  as 
to  a  child,  and  still  keeping  his  smiling  eyes  upon 
hers.  "  Now  —  just  —  close  —  your  —  eyes  —  for 
a  minute ;  see  —  I  have  your  hand  —  so.  Go  to 
sleep." 

There  was  not  a  sound  in  the  room;  Ruth  stood 
where  she  had  been  placed,  and  Mr.  Levice  was 
.behind  the  doctor,  his  face  quite  colorless,  scarcely 
daring  to  breathe.  Finally  the  faint,  even  breathing 
of  Mrs.  Levice  told  that  she  slept. 

Kemp  turned  to  Mr.  Levice  and  spoke  in  a  low, 
but  distinct,  tone. 

"  Put  your  hand,  palm  up,  under  hers.  I'm  going 
to  draw  my  hand  away  and  go  —  I  don't  want  to 
excite  her.  She'll  probably  open  her  eyes  in  a  few 
moments.  Take  her  home  as  quietly  as  you  can." 

"  You'll  call  tomorrow  ?  "  whispered  Levice. 

He  quietly  assented. 

"  Now  be  quick."  The  transfer  was  deftly  made, 
and  nodding  cheerfully,  Dr.  Kemp  left  the  room. 

Ruth  came  forward.  Five  minutes  later  Mrs. 
Levice  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Why,  what  has  happened  ? "  she  asked  lan 
guidly. 

"  You  fell  asleep,  Esther,"  replied  her  husband, 
gently. 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  why  is  Ruth  in  that  gown? 


24  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Oh  —  ye-es !  "  Consciousness  was  returning  to  her. 
"  And  who  was  that  handsome  man  who  was 
here?" 

"  A  friend  of  Ruth's." 

"  He  is  very  dictatorial,"  she  observed  pensively. 
She  lay  back  in  her  chair  for  a  few  minutes  as  if 
dreaming.  Suddenly  she  started  up. 

"  What  thoughtless  people  we  are !  Let's  go 
back  to  the  drawing-room  or  they'll  think  something 
dreadful  has  happened." 

"  No,  mamma ;  I  don't  feel  at  all  like  going  back. 
Stay  here  with  father  while  I  get  our  wraps." 

Before  Mrs.  Levice  could  demur,  Ruth  had  left 
the  room.  As  she  turned  in  the  direction  of  the 
stairs,  she  was  startled  by  a  hand  laid  upon  her 
shoulder. 

"  Oh,  you,  Louis !    I'm  going  for  our  wraps." 

"  Here  they  are.     How  is  my  aunt?  " 

"  She's  quite  herself  again.  Thanks  for  the 
wraps.  Will  you  call  up  the  carriage?  We'll  go 
at  once,  but  don't  think  of  coming  yourself." 

"  Nonsense !  Tell  your  mother  you  have  made 
your  adieux  to  Mrs.  Merrill  —  she  understands. 
The  carriage  is  waiting." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  Levices  and  Louis 
Arnold  quietly  stole  away.  Mrs.  Merrill  lightly  ex 
plained  to  those  inquiring  that  Mrs.  Levice  had  had 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  25 

an  attack  of  hysteria.  "  Nothing  at  all,"  the  little 
world  about  her  said,  and  dismissed  it  as  carelessly 
as  most  of  the  quiet  turning-points  in  a  life-history 
are  dismissed. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  Levices'  house  stood  well  back  upon  its 
grounds,  almost  with  an  air  of  reserve  in 
comparison  with  the  rows  of  stately,  bay-windowed 
houses  facing  it  and  hedging  it  in  on  both  sides. 
But  the  broad,  sweeping  lawns,  the  confusion  of 
exquisite  roses  and  heliotropes,  the  open  path  to 
the  veranda,  whereon  stood  an  hospitable  garden 
settee  and  chair,  the  long  French  windows  open  this 
summer  morning  to  sun  and  air,  offered  an 
unusually  inviting  aspect  for  a  city  home. 

As  Dr.  Kemp  ascended  the  few  steps  leading  to 
the  front  door  he  looked  around  approvingly. 

"  Not  a  bad  berth  for  the  grave  little  bookworm," 
he  mused  as  he  rang  the  bell. 

It  was  immediately  answered  by  the  "  grave  little 
bookworm  "  in  person. 

"  I've  been  on  the  lookout  for  you  for  the  past 
hour/'  he  explained,  leading  him  into  the  library 
and  turning  the  key  of  the  door  as  they  entered. 

It  was  a  cosy  room,  not  small  or  low,  as  the  word 
might  suggest,  but  large  and  airy;  the  cosyness  was 

26 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  27 

supplied  by  comfortable  easy-chairs,  two  deep 
couches,  a  broad,  low  table  with  flowers,  an  open 
piano,  a  few  soft  prints  and  paintings  on  the  walls, 
and  books  in  cases,  books  on  tables,  books  on  stands, 
books  everywhere.  Two  long  deep-framed  win 
dows  let  in  through  their  draperies  a  flood  of 
searching  sunlight  which  brought  to  light  not  an 
atom  of  dust  in  the  remotest  corner.  It  is  almost 
an  article  of  faith  with  many  a  Jewess  that  her 
house  be  kept  as  clean  as  if  at  any  moment  a  search- 
warrant  for  dirt  might  be  served  upon  her. 

"Won't  you  be  seated?"  asked  Levice,  looking 
up  at  Kemp  as  the  latter  stood  pulling  off  his  gloves. 

"  Is  your  wife  coming  down  here?  " 

"  No;  she  is  in  her  room  yet." 

"  Then  let's  go  up  immediately.  I'm  not  at 
leisure." 

"  I  know.  Still,  I  wish  to  ask  you  to  treat  what 
ever  you  may  find  wrong  as  lightly  as  possible  in 
her  presence ;  she  has  never  known  anxiety  or  worry 
of  any  kind.  It  will  be  necessary  to  tell  only  me, 
and  every  precaution  will  be  taken." 

Here  was  a  second  one  of  this  family  of  three 
wishing  to  take  the  brunt  of  the  trouble  on  his 
shoulders,  and  the  third  had  been  bearing  it  secretly 
for  some  time.  Probably  a  very  united  family, 
loving  and  unselfish  doubtless,  but  the  doctor  had 


28  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

to  stifle  an  amused  smile  in  the  face  of  the  old 
gentleman's  dignified  appeal. 

"  But  she's  not  a  child,  I  suppose ;  she  knows  of 
the  nature  of  my  visit?"  He  moved  with  some 
impatience  toward  the  door. 

"  Ruth  —  my  daughter,  you  know,  —  was  about 
to  tell  her  as  I  left  the  room." 

"  Then  we'll  go  up  directly." 

Levice  preceded  him  up  the  broad  staircase.  As 
they  reached  the  landing,  he  turned  to  the  doctor. 

"  Pardon  my  care,  but  I  must  make  sure  that 
Ruth  has  told  her.  Just  step  into  the  sitting-room 
a  second,"  and  the  solicitous  husband  went  forward 
to  his  wife's  bedroom,  leaving  the  door  open. 

Standing  thus  in  the  hallway,  Kemp  could  plainly 
hear  the  following  words : 

"  And  being  interested  in  nervous  diseases,"  the 
peculiarly  low  voice  was  saying,  "  he  told  father  he 
would  call  and  see  you  —  out  of  professional  curios 
ity,  you  know.  Besides  we  wouldn't  like  you  to  be 
often  taken  as  you  were  last  night,  would  we?  " 

"  People  with  plenty  of  time  on  their  hands," 
soliloquized  the  doctor,  looking  at  his  watch  in  the 
hallway. 

"  What  is  his  name,  did  you  say?  " 

"  Dr.  Herbert  Kemp." 

"  What !    Don't  you  know  that  Dr.  Kemp  is  one 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  29 

of  the  best-known  physicians  in  the  city?  Everyone 
knows  he  has  no  time  for  curiosity.  Nervous  dis 
eases  are  his  specialty,  and  do  you  think  he  would 
come  without  —  " 

"Being  asked?"  interrupted  a  pleasant  voice; 
the  doctor,  with  some  respect  for  the  flight  of  time, 
had  walked  in  unannounced. 

"  Keep  your  seat,"  he  continued,  as  Mrs.  Levice 
started  up,  the  excited  blood  springing  to  her 
cheeks. 

''  You  hardly  need  an  introduction,  Esther," 
said  Levice.  "  You  remember  Dr.  Kemp  from  last 
night?" 

"  Yes.  Don't  go,  Ruth,  please.  Jules,  hadn't  you 
something  to  do  downstairs?" 

Did  she  imagine  for  a  moment  that  she  could 
still  conceal  her  trouble  from  his  tender  watchful 
ness  ?  Great  dark  rings  encircled  her  now  feverishly 
bright  eyes,  her  mouth  trembled  visibly,  and  as 
Ruth  drew  aside,  her  mother's  shaking  fingers  held 
tight  to  her  hand. 

"  I  have  nothing  in  the  world  to  do,"  replied 
Levice,  heartily.  "  I'm  going  to  sit  right  here  and 
get  interested." 

'  You  will  have  to  submit  to  a  friendly  cross- 
examination,  Mrs.  Levice,"  said  the  physician. 

He  drew  a  chair  up  before  her  and  took  both  her 


30  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

hands  in  his.  Ruth,  relinquishing  her  hold,  en 
countered  a  pair  of  pleasantly  authoritative  gray 
eyes,  and  instantly  divining  their  expression,  left 
the  room. 

She  descended  a  few  steps  to  the  windowed  land 
ing.  Here  she  intended  joining  the  doctor  on  his 
way  down.  Probably  her  father  would  follow  him, 
but  it  was  her  intention  to  intercept  any  such  plan. 
A  fog  had  arisen,  and  the  struggling,  rosy  beams  of 
the  sun  glimmered  opalescently  through  the  density. 
Ruth  thought  it  would  be  clear  by  noon,  when  she 
and  her  mother  could  go  for  a  stirring  tramp.  She 
stood  lost  in  thought  till  a  firm  footfall  on  the  stairs 
aroused  her. 

"I  see  Miss  Levice  here;  don't  come  down," 
Kemp  was  saying.  "  What  further  directions  I 
have  must  be  given  to  a  woman." 

"  Stay  with  mother,  father,"  called  Ruth,  look 
ing  up  at  her  hesitating  father.  "  I'll  see  the  doctor 
out,"  and  she  quickly  ran  down  the  few  remaining 
steps  to  Kemp,  awaiting  her  at  the  foot.  She 
opened  the  door  of  the  library,  and  closing  it  quickly 
behind  them,  turned  to  him  expectantly. 

"  Nothing  to  be  alarmed  at,"  he  said,  answering 
her  mute  inquiry.  He  seated  himself  at  the  table 
and  drew  from  his  vest-pocket  pencil  and  blank. 
Without  another  glance  at  the  girl,  he  wrote  rapidly 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  31 

for  some  minutes.  When  he  arose  he  handed  her 
the  two  slips  of  paper. 

"  The  first  is  a  tonic  which  you  will  have  made 
up,"  he  explained,  picking  up  his  gloves  and  hat  and 
moving  toward  the  door,  "  the  other  is  a  diet  which 
you  are  to  observe.  As  I  told  her  just  now,  she 
must  stay  in  bed  and  see  no  one  but  her  immediate 
family;  you  must  see  that  she  hears  and  reads 
nothing  exciting.  That's  all,  I  think." 

Indignation  and  alarm  held  riot  in  Ruth's  face 
and  arrested  the  doctor's  departure. 

"  Dr.  Kemp,"  she  said,  "  you  force  me  to  remind 
you  of  a  promise  you  made  me  last  night.  Won't 
you  at  least  tell  me  why  you  have  to  use  such  stren 
uous  measures?  " 

A  flash  of  recollection  came  to  the  doctor's  eyes. 

"  Why,  this  is  an  unpardonable  breach,  Miss 
Levice,  but  I'll  tell  you  all  the  trouble.  Your  mother 
is  suffering  from  a  certain  form  of  hysteria  to  a 
degree  that  would  have  prostrated  her  if  we  had 
not  come  forward  in  time.  As  it  is,  by  prostrating 
her  ourselves  for  awhile,  say  a  month  or  so,  she'll 
easily  regain  her  equilibrium.  You've  heard  of  the 
food-and-rest  cure?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  that's  what  she  will  undergo,  mildly.  Has 
she  any  duties  that  will  suffer  by  her  neglect?  " 


32  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  No  necessary  ones  but  those  of  the  house. 
Under  no  circumstances  can  I  imagine  her  giving 
up  their  supervision." 

"  Well,  she'll  have  to  under  the  present  state  of 
affairs.  Remember,  her  mind  must  be  kept  unoccu 
pied,  though  time  may  be  made  to  pass  pleasantly 
for  her.  This  isn't  an  easy  job,  Miss  Levice,  but, 
according  to  my  promise,  I've  left  you  to  undertake 
it." 

:'  Thank  you,"  she  responded  quietly. 

Kemp  looked  at  her  with  a  pleasant  sense  of 
satisfaction. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said,  and  held  out  his  hand 
with  a  smile. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him,  Ruth  felt  as  if  a 
burden  had  fallen  from,  instead  of  upon,  her.  For 
the  last  twenty-four  hours  her  apprehensions  had 
been  excessive.  Now,  though  she  knew  positively 
that  her  mother's  condition  needed  instant  and  con 
stant  care,  which  she  must  herself  assume,  all  sense 
of  responsibility  fell  from  her.  The  few  quiet 
words  of  this  strange  physician  had  made  her 
trust  his  strength  as  she  would  a  rock.  She  could 
not  have  explained  why  it  was  so,  but  as  her  father 
remarked  once,  she  might  have  said,  "  I  trust  him 
implicitly,  because,  though  a  man  of  superiority,  he 
implicitly  trusts  himself." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  33 

When  she  reentered  her  mother's  room  her  father 
regarded  her  intently. 

"  So  we're  going  to  make  a  baby  of  you, 
mamma,"  she  cried  playfully,  coming  forward  and 
folding  her  arms  around  her  mother  who  lay  on 
the  couch. 

"  So  he  says,  and  what  he  says  one  can't  oppose." 
There  was  an  apathetic  ring  to  her  mother's  voice 
that  surprised  her.  Quickly  the  thought  flashed 
through  her  that  she  was  too  weary  to  resist,  now 
that  she  was  found  out. 

"  Then  we  won't  try  to,"  Ruth  decided,  seating 
herself  on  the  edge  of  the  couch  close  to  her  mother. 
From  his  armchair,  Mr.  Levice  noted  with  remorse 
ful  pride  the  almost  matronly  poise  and  expression 
of  his  lovely  young  daughter  as  she  bent  over  her 
weary-looking  mother  and  smoothed  her  hair. 

"  And  if  you're  to  be  baby,"  she  continued, 
smiling  down,  "  I'll  have  to  change  places  with  you, 
and  be  mother.  You'll  see  what  a  capital  one  I'll 
make.  Let's  see,  what  are  the  duties  ?  First,  baby 
must  be  fed — 'properly — :  I'm  an  artist  at  that; 
second,  father,  and  the  rest  of  us,  must  have  a  per 
fectly  appointed  menage;  third  —  " 

"  I  don't  doubt  that  you  will  make  a  perfect 
mother,  my  child."  The  gentle  meaning  of  her 
father's  words  and  glance  made  Ruth  flush  with 


34  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

delight.  When  Levice  said,  "  My  child,"  the  words 
were  a  caress.  "  Just  believe  in  her,  Esther.  One 
of  her  earliest  lessons  was  '  Whatever  you  do,  do 
thoroughly/  She'll  have  to  learn  it  through  experi 
ence.  But  as  you  trust  me,  trust  my  pupil." 

The  soft  smile  playing  upon  her  husband's  face 
found  its  reflection  on  Mrs.  Levice's. 

"  Oh,  Ruth,"  she  murmured  tremulously,  "  it  will 
be  so  hard  for  you!  " 

This  was  a  virtual  laying  down  of  arms,  and 
Ruth  was  satisfied. 


CHAPTER  IV 

K'UIS  ARNOLD,  the  only  other  member  of  the 
Levice  family,  had  been  forced  to  leave  town 
on  business  the  morning  after  Mrs.  Levice's  attack 
at  the  Merrill  reception.  He  was,  therefore,  much 
surprised  and  shocked  on  his  return,  a  week  later, 
to  find  his  aunt  in  bed  and  such  rigorous  measures 
for  quiet  in  vogue. 

Arnold  had  been  an  inmate  of  the  house  for  the 
past  twelve  years.  He  was  a  direct  importation 
from  France,  which  he  had  left  just  before  attain 
ing  his  majority,  through  Levice's  urgent  plea  for 
"  the  arm  of  a  son  "  in  his  declining  years.  He 
had  no  sooner  taken  up  his  abode  with  his  uncle 
than  he  was  regarded  as  the  most  useful  and  orna 
mental  piece  of  foreign  vertu  in  the  beautiful  house. 

Being  a  business  man  by  nature,  keen,  wary,  and 
indefatigable,  he  was  soon  able  to  take  almost  the 
entire  charge  of  Levice's  affairs.  After  a  few  years 
his  uncle  had  ceased  to  question  his  business  capa 
bilities.  From  the  time  he  arrived,  he  naturally 
fell  into  the  position  of  his  aunt's  escort,  thus  again 
relieving  Levice,  who  preferred  the  quieter  life. 

35 


36  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

When  Ruth  began  to  go  into  society,  his  pres 
ence  was  almost  a  necessity,  as  Jewish  etiquette,  or 
rather  Jewish  espionage,  forbade,  in  those  days,  a 
young  man  unattached  by  blood  or  intentions  to 
appear  as  the  attendant  of  a  single  woman.  This  was 
one  of  the  well-intentioned  unwritten  laws  Jewish 
heads  of  families  sternly  held  to  —  keeping  the 
young  people  apart  —  making  the  young  men 
graceless,  and  depriving  the  young  girls  of  a  great 
deal  of  innocent  pleasure. 

Arnold,  however,  was  not  an  escort  to  be  despised, 
as  Ruth  soon  discovered.  She  very  quickly  felt  a 
sort  of  family  pride  in  his  cool,  quizzical  manner 
and  caustic  repartee,  which  was  wholly  distinct  from 
her  more  girlish  admiration  of  his  distinguished 
person.  He  and  Ruth  were  great  friends  in  a  quiet, 
unspoken  fashion. 

They  were  sitting  together  alone  in  the  library 
on  the  evening  of  his  return.  Mrs.  Levice  had 
fallen  asleep,  and  her  husband  was  sitting  with  her. 
Ruth  had  stolen  down  to  keep  Louis  company, 
knowing  he  would  feel  lost  in  the  changed  order  of 
the  house. 

Arnold  lay  at  full  length  on  a  couch;  Ruth  was 
sunk  in  a  deep,  winged-backed  chair. 

"  What  I  am  surprised  at,"  he  was  saying,  "  is 
that  my  aunt  submits  to  this  confining  treatment." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  37 

He  pronounced  the  last  word  "  tritment,"  but  he 
never  stopped  at  a  word  because  of  its  pronuncia 
tion,  thus  adding  a  certain  piquancy  to  his  speech. 

"  You  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  you  knew  Dr. 
Kemp;  one  follows  his  directions  blindly." 

"  So  I  have  heard  from  a  great  many  —  women." 

"And  not  men?" 

"  I  have  never  happened  to  hold  a  conversation 
with  a  man  on  the  powers  of  Dr.  Kemp.  Women 
delight  in  such  things." 

"What  things?" 

"  Why,  giving  in  to  the  magnetic  power  of  a 
strong  man." 

'  You  err  slightly,  Louis ;  it's  the  power,  not  the 
giving  in,  we  delight  in,  counting  it  an  attractive 
part  of  manliness." 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  differ  with  you  ?  Besides, 
apart  from  this  great  first  cause,  I  do  not  under 
stand  how,  after  a  week  of  it,  she  has  not  rebelled." 

"  I  think  I  can  answer  that  satisfactorily,"  replied 
his  cousin,  a  mischievous  smile  parting  her  lips  and 
showing  a  row  of  strong  white  teeth.  "  She  is  in 
love." 

"Also?" 

"  With  father ;  and  so  does  as  she  knows  will 
please  him  best.  Love  is  also  something  everyone 
loves  to  give  in  to." 


38  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Everyone  who  loves,  you  mean." 

"  Everyone  loves  something  or  someone." 

"  Behold  the  exception,  then."  He  moved  his 
head  so  as  to  get  a  better  view  of  her. 

"  I  don't  believe  you." 

"  That  —  is  rude."  He  kept  his  eyes  medi 
tatively  fixed  upon  her. 

"  Have  you  made  a  discovery  in  my  face?  " 
she  asked  presently,  slightly  moving  from  his  gaze. 

"  No,"  he  replied  calmly.  "  My  discovery  was 
made  some  time  ago.  I  am  merely  going  over 
beautiful  and  pleasant  ground." 

"  Really?  "  she  returned,  flushing.  "  Then  please 
look  away  now;  you  annoy  me." 

"  Why  should  I,  since  you  know  it  is  done  in 
admiration?  You  are  a  woman;  don't  pretend 
distaste  for  it." 

"  I'll  certainly  go  upstairs  if  you  persist  in  talk 
ing  so  hatefully." 

"  Indulge  me  a  little ;  I  feel  like  talking,  and  I 
promise  not  to  be  —  hateful.  Always  wear  white 
—  it  becomes  you.  Never  forget  that  real  beauty 
is  most  adorned  when  least  adorned.  Another  thing, 
ma  belle  cousine,  that  little  trick  you  have  of  blush 
ing  on  the  slightest  provocation  spoils  your  whole 
appearance.  Your  complexion  should  always  retain 
its  healthy  whiteness,  while  —  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  39 

"  You've  been  indulged  quite  enough,  Louis.  Do 
you  know,  if  you  often  spoke  to  me  in  this  manner 
I  should  soon  detest  you?  " 

"  That  would  indeed  be  unfortunate.  Never  hate, 
Ruth;  besides  making  enemies,  hate  is  an  arch 
enemy  to  the  face,  distorting  the  softest  and  love 
liest." 

"  We  can't  love  people  who  calmly  sit  and  irritate 
us." 

"  That  is  exaggerated,  I  think.  Besides,  heaven 
forbid  our  loving  everybody!  Never  love,  Ruth; 
let  liking  be  strong  enough  for  you.  Love  only 
wears  out  the  body  and  narrows  the  mind,  all  to  no 
purpose.  Cupid,  you  know,  died  young,  or  wasted 
to  plainness,  for  he  never  had  his  portrait  taken 
after  he  matured." 

"  A  character  such  as  you  would  have  would  be 
unbearable." 

"But  sensible  and  wise." 

"  Happily  our  hearts  need  no  teaching ;  they  love 
and  hate  instinctively  before  the  brain  can  speak." 

"  Good  —  for  some.  But  in  me  behold  the  anom 
aly  whose  brain  always  reconnoiters  the  field 
before-hand,  and  has  never  yet  considered  it  worth 
while  to  signal  either  '  love  '  or  '  hate.' ' 

He  rose  with  a  smile  and  sauntered  over  to  the 
piano.  The  unbecoming  blush  mounted  slowly  to 


40  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Ruth's  face  and  her  eyes  were  bright  as  she  watched 
him.  When  his  hands  touched  the  keys,  she  spoke. 

"  No  doubt  you  think  it  adds  to  your  dominance 
to  pretend  independence  of  all  emotion.  But,  do 
you  know,  I  think  feeling,  instead  of  being  a  weak 
ness,  is  often  more  clever  than  wisdom?  At  any 
rate,  what  you're  doing  now  is  proof  sufficient  that 
you  feel,  and  perhaps  more  strongly  than  many." 

He  partly  turned  on  the  music-stool  and  regarded 
her  questioningly,  never,  however,  lifting  his  hands 
from  the  keys  as  he  played  a  softly  passionate  minor 
strain. 

"  What  am  I  doing?  "  he  asked. 

"  Making  love  to  the  piano." 

"  It  does  not  hurt  the  piano,  does  it?  " 

"  No ;  but  never  say  you  don't  feel  when  you 
can  play  like  that." 

"Is  not  that  rather  peremptory?  Who  taught 
you  to  read  character?" 

"  You." 

"  I  ?  What  a  poor  teacher  I  was  to  allow  you  to 
show  such  bungling  work!  Will  you  sing?  " 

"  No,  I'm  going  to  read;  I've  had  quite  enough 
of  myself  and  of  you  for  one  night." 

"  Alas,  poor  me !  "  he  retorted  mockingly,  and 
seeming  to  accompany  his  words  with  his  music.  "  I 
am  sorry  for  you,  my  child,  that  your  emotions  are 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  41 

so  troublesome.  You  have  just  made  your  entrance 
into  the  coldest,  most  exciting  arena  —  the  world. 
Remember  what  I  tell  you  —  all  the  strong  motives, 
love  and  hate  and  jealousy,  are  mere  flotsam  and 
jetsam.  You  are  the  only  loser  by  their  posses 
sion." 

The  quiet  closing  of  the  door  was  his  only 
answer.  Ruth  had  left  the  room. 

She  knew  Arnold  too  well  to  be  affected  by  his 
little  affectation  of  cynicism.  If  she  could  escape  a 
cynic,  either  in  books  or  in  society,  she  invariably 
did  so.  Life  was  still  beautiful  for  her,  and  one  of 
her  father's  untaught  lessons  was  that  the  cynic  is 
a  one-sided  creature,  having  lost  the  eye  that  sees 
the  compensation  balancing  all  things.  As  long  as 
Louis  attacked  things,  it  did  no  harm,  except  to 
incite  a  friendly  passage-at-arms ;  hence,  most  of 
such  talk  passed  in  the  speaking.  Not  so  his  faint 
disparagement  of  Dr.  Kemp. 

During  the  week  in  which  Ruth  had  established 
herself  as  nurse-in-chief  to  her  mother  she  had  seen 
him  almost  daily.  Time  in  the  quiet  sick-room  had 
passed  monotonously;  events,  unnoticed  in  hours  of 
well-being  and  activity,  had  assumed  proportions  of 
importance;  meal-times  were  looked  forward  to  as 
a  break  in  the  day;  the  doctor's  visit,  especially  as 
it  was  the  only  one  allowed,  was  an  excitement. 


42  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Dr.  Kemp's  visits  were  short,  but  the  two  had 
learned  to  look  for  his  coming  and  the  sound  of  his 
deep,  cheery  voice,  as  to  a  morning's  tonic  that 
would  strengthen  the  whole  day.  Naturally,  as  he 
was  a  stranger,  Mrs.  Levice  in  her  idleness  had 
analyzed  and  discussed  aloud  his  qualities,  both 
personal  and  professional,  to  her  satisfaction.  She 
had  small  ground  for  basing  her  judgments,  but 
comment  and  speculation  upon  the  doctor  formed  a 
good  part  of  her  conversation. 

Ruth's  knowledge  of  him  was  somewhat  wider 
—  about  the  distance  between  Mrs.  Levice's  bed 
room  and  the  front  door.  She  had  a  homely  little 
way  of  seeing  people  to  the  door,  and  here  it  was 
the  doctor  gave  her  any  new  instructions.  Instruc 
tions  were  soon  given  and  taken,  however,  and 
there  was  always  time  for  a  word  or  two  of  a 
different  nature. 

In  the  first  place,  she  had  been  attracted  by  his 
magnificent  pair  of  black  horses. 

"  I  wonder  if  they'd  despise  a  lump  of  sugar," 
she  said  one  morning. 

"Why  should  they?"  asked  Kemp. 

"  Oh,  they  seem  to  hold  their  heads  so  haughtily." 

"  Still,  they're  human  enough  to  know  sweets 
when  they  see  them,"  their  owner  replied,  taking  in 
the  beautiful  figure  of  the  young  girl  in  her  quaint, 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  43 

flowered  morning-dress.  "  Try  them  once,  and 
you  won't  doubt  it." 

She  did  try  them,  and  as  she  turned  a  slightly 
flushed  face  to  Kemp,  who  stood  beside  her,  he  held 
out  his  hand,  saying  gaily,  "  Let  me  thank  you  and 
shake  hands  for  my  horses." 

One  can  even  become  eloquent,  witty,  or  tender 
over  the  weather.  The  doctor  became  neither  of 
these,  but  Ruth,  whose  spirits  were  mercurially 
affected  by  the  atmosphere,  always  viewed  the  ele 
ments  with  the  eye  of  a  private  signal-service 
reporter. 

!f  This  is  the  time  for  a  tramp,"  she  said,  as  they 
stood  on  the  veranda,  and  the  summer  air,  laden 
with  the  perfume  of  heliotrope,  stole  around  them. 
"  That's  where  the  laboring  man  has  the  advantage 
over  you,  Dr.  Kemp." 

"  Which,  ten  to  one,  he  finds  a  disadvantage.  But 
I  agree  with  you  —  in  such  weather  every  healthy 
person  of  leisure  should  be  gormandizing  on  this 
air.  You,  Miss  Levice,  should  get  on  your  walking 
togs  instantly." 

"  Yes,  but  not  conveniently.  My  father  and  I 
never  failed  to  take  our  morning  constitutional 
together  when  all  was  well.  Father  always  gave  me 
the  dubious  compliment  of  saying  I  walked  as 
straight  and  took  as  long  strides  as  a  boy.  Being  a 


44  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

great  lover  of  walking,  I  was  sorry  my  pas  was  not 
ladylike." 

"  I'm  sure  you  must  be  a  capital  pedestrian.  Your 
father  evidently  remembered  what  a  troublesome 
thing  it  is  to  conform  one's  length  of  limb  to  the 
dainty  footsteps  of  a  woman." 

"  Father  has  no  trouble  on  that  score,"  said 
Ruth,  laughing. 

The  doctor  laughed  heartily  in  response,  and  rais 
ing  his  hat,  said,  "  That's  where  he  has  the  advan 
tage  over  a  tall  man." 

Reviewing  several  such  scenes,  Ruth  could  re 
member  nothing  in  his  manner  but  a  sort  of  invigo 
rating,  friendly  bluntness,  totally  at  variance  with 
the  peculiarities  of  the  mere  woman's  man  Louis 
had  insinuated  he  was  accounted.  She  resolved  to 
scrutinize  him  more  narrowly  the  next  morning. 

Mrs.  Levice's  room  was  handsomely  furnished 
and  daintily  appointed.  Even  from  her  pillows  she 
would  have  detected  any  lapse  in  its  exquisite  order, 
and  one  of  Ruth's  duties  was  to  leave  none  to  be 
detected.  The  house  was  large,  and  with  three  serv 
ants  the  young  girl  had  a  deal  of  supervising.  She 
took  a  na'ive  pride  in  having  things  move  as 
smoothly  as  under  her  mother's  administration; 
and  Mr.  Levice  assured  his  wife  it  was  well  she  had 
retired,  as  the  new  broom  was  a  vast  improvement. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  45 

Ruth  had  given  the  last  touches  to  her  mother's 
dark  hair,  and  was  reading  aloud  the  few  unexcit 
ing  items  one  finds  in  the  morning  paper.  Mrs. 
Levice,  propped  almost  to  a  sitting  position  by  many 
downy  pillows,  polished  her  nails  and  half  listened. 
Her  cheeks  were  no  longer  brightly  flushed,  but 
quite  pale;  but  the  expression  of  her  eyes  was  placid, 
and  her  slight  hand  quite  firm;  the  strain  lifted  from 
her,  a  great  weariness  had  taken  its  place.  The 
sweet  morning  air  came  in  unrestrained  at  the  open 
window. 

Ruth's  reading  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  the  maid,  carrying  a  dainty  basket  of  Duchesse 
roses. 

"  For  Madame,"  she  said,  handing  it  to  Ruth, 
who  came  forward  to  take  it. 

"  Read  the  card  yourself,"  she  said,  placing  it  in 
her  mother's  hand  as  the  girl  retired.  A  pleased 
smile  broke  over  Mrs.  Levice's  face;  she  buried  her 
face  in  the  roses,  and  then  opened  the  envelope. 

"  From  Louis ! "  she  exclaimed  delightedly. 
"  Poor  fellow !  he  was  dreadfully  upset  when  he 
came  in.  He  didn't  say  much,  but  his  look  and 
handshake  were  enough  as  he  bent  to  kiss  me.  Do 
you  know,  Ruth,  I  think  Louis  has  a  very  loving 
disposition?  " 

"Yes,  dear?" 


46  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Yes.  One  wouldn't  think  so,  judging  from  his 
manner,  but  I  know  him  to  be  unusually  sympa 
thetic,  for  a  man.  I  would  sooner  have  him  for  a 
friend  than  many  a  woman ;  he  hasn't  many  equals 
among  the  young  men  I  know.  Don't  you  agree 
with  me,  dear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.    I  always  liked  Louis." 

"  How  coldly  you  say  that !  And,  by  the  way,  it 
struck  me  as  very  queer  last  night  that  you  didn't 
kiss  him  after  his  being  away  a  whole  week.  Since 
when  has  this  formal  handshake  come  into  use  be 
tween  you  ?  " 

A  slight  flush  crimsoned  Ruth's  cheek. 

"  It's  not  my  fault,"  she  said,  smiling  ruefully. 
"  I  always  kissed  Louis  even  after  a  day's  absence. 
But  some  few  months  ago  he  inaugurated  the  new 
regime,  and  holds  me  at  arm's  length.  I  can't  ask 
him  why,  when  he  looks  at  me  so  matter-of-factly 
through  his  eye-glass,  can  I  ?  " 

"No;  certainly  not."  A  slight  frown  marred 
the  complacency  of  Mrs.  Levice's  brow.  Such 
actions  were  not  at  all  in  accordance  with  her  dar 
ling  scheme.  Arnold  was  much  to  her,  but  she 
wished  him  to  be  more.  This  was  a  sidetrack  upon 
which  she  had  not  wished  her  train  to  move. 

Her  cogitations  took  a  turn  when  she  heard  a 
quick  footfall  in  the  hall. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  47 

Ruth  anticipated  the  knock,  and  opened  the  door 
to  greet  the  doctor. 

Bowing  slightly  to  her,  he  advanced  somewhat 
hurriedly  to  the  bedside.  He  had  not  taken  off  his 
gloves,  and  an  intent  air  of  troubled  gravity  re 
placed  his  usual  leisurely  manner. 

"  Good-morning,  Mrs.  Levice,"  he  said,  taking 
her  hand  in  his,  and  looking  searchingly  down  at 
her.  "  How  are  you  this  morning?  Any  starts  or 
shakes  of  any  sort?" 

"  No ;  I'm  beginning  to  feel  as  impassive  and 
stupid  as  a  well-fed  animal.  Won't  you  sit  down?  " 

"  No,  I  have  a  consultation  in  a  very  short  time. 
Keep  right  on  as  you've  been  doing.  I  don't  think 
it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  call  for  several  days 
now,  probably  not  before  Friday." 

"  And  today  is  Tuesday !  Am  I  to  see  no  one 
till  then?" 

"  No  one  but  those  you  have  seen.  Please  don't 
complain,  Mrs.  Levice,"  he  said  in  sharp  sternness. 
"  You're  a  very  fortunate  invalid.  Illness  with  you 
is  cushioned  in  every  conceivable  corner.  I  wish  I 
could  make  you  divide  some  of  your  blessings.  As 
I  can't,  I  wish  you  would  appreciate  them  as  they 
deserve.  Don't  come  down,  Miss  Levice."  She 
had  moved  to  follow  him.  "  I'm  in  a  great  hurry. 
Good-morning." 


48  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  How  harassed  he  looked !  I  wonder  who  is  his 
patient !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Levice,  as  Ruth  quietly 
returned  to  her  seat.  A  sunbeam  fell  aslant  the 
girl's  preoccupied  face.  The  doctor's  few  words 
had  given  her  food  for  thought. 

When,  later,  she  remembered  how  she  was  going 
to  disprove  for  herself  Louis's  innuendoes,  she  won 
dered  if  he  could  have  found  anything  to  cavil  at, 
had  he  been  present,  in  Kemp's  abrupt  visit  of  the 
morning. 


CHAPTER  V 

RUTH  LEVICE'S  taste  in  dress  was  part  of 
her  distinction.  Indeed,  any  little  jealousy 
her  lovely  presence  might  occasion  was  usually 
summed  up  in  the  terse  truism,  "  Fine  feathers 
make  fine  birds." 

She  had  discovered  the  art  of  dressing  appro 
priately.  Having  a  full  purse,  she  could  humor 
every  occasion  with  a  change  of  gown;  being  pos 
sessed  of  correct  taste,  her  toilettes  never  offended ; 
desiring  to  look  pleasing,  as  every  normal  woman 
does,  she  studied  what  was  becoming;  having  a 
mother  to  whom  a  good  appearance  was  one  of  the 
most  pressing  duties,  and  who  delighted  in  plan 
ning  beautiful  gowns  for  her  beautiful  daughter, 
there  was  nothing  to  prevent  Ruth  from  being  well- 
dressed. 

On  this  summer  afternoon  she  was  clad  from 
head  to  foot  in  soft  gray.  Every  movement  of 
her  young  body,  as  she  walked  toward  town,  be 
tokened  health  and  elastic  strength.  Her  long,  easy 
gait  precluded  any  idea  of  hurry;  she  noticed  every- 

49 


50  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

thing  she  passed,  from  a  handsome  horse  to  a  dirty 
child. 

She  was  approaching  that  portion  of  Geary 
Street  which  the  doctors  had  appropriated,  and  she 
carefully  scanned  each  silvery  sign-plate  in  search 
of  Dr.  Kemp's  name.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had 
had  occasion  to  go,  and  with  a  little  feeling  of  novel 
curiosity  she  ran  up  the  steps  leading  to  his  office. 

It  was  just  three,  the  time  stated  as  the  limit  of 
his  office-hours,  but  when  Ruth  entered  the  hand 
some  waiting-room  two  or  three  patients  were  still 
awaiting  their  turns.  Seated  in  one  of  the  easy- 
chairs  near  the  window  was  an  aristocratic-looking 
woman,  whom  Ruth  recognized  as  a  friend  of  one 
of  her  Christian  friends,  and  with  whom  she  had 
a  speaking  acquaintance.  Nodding  pleasantly  in 
response  to  the  rather  frigid  bow,  she  walked  to  the 
center  of  the  room  and,  laying  upon  the  table  a 
bunch  of  roses  she  was  carrying,  she  proceeded  to 
select  one  of  the  magazines  scattered  about.  As  she 
sat  down  she  found  herself  opposite  a  stout  Irish 
woman,  coarsely  but  cleanly  dressed,  who,  with 
undisguised  admiration,  was  taking  in  every  detail 
of  Ruth's  appearance.  She  overlooked  the  evident 
simplicity  of  the  woman's  stare,  but  the  wistful, 
yearning  gaze  of  a  little  girl  who  reclined  upon  the 
lounge  caused  her  to  sit  with  her  magazine  un- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  51 

opened.  As  soon  as  she  perceived  that  it  was  her 
flowers  the  child  was  regarding  so  longingly,  she 
bent  forward,  and  holding  out  a  few  roses,  said 
invitingly : 

"Would  you  like  these?" 

There  is  generally  something  startling  in  the  sud 
den  sound  of  a  voice  after  a  long  silence  between 
strangers,  but  the  pretty  cadence  of  Ruth's  gentle 
voice  bore  no  suggestion  of  abruptness. 

"  Indeed,  and  she  just  do  dote  on  'em,"  answered 
the  mother,  in  a  loud  tone,  for  the  blushing  child. 

"  So  do  I,"  responded  Ruth;  and  leaning  farther 
forward,  she  put  them  in  the  little  hand. 

But  the  child's  hand  did  not  close  over  them,  and 
the  large  eyes  turned  piteously  to  her  mother. 

"  It's  paralyzed  she  is,"  hurriedly  explained  the 
mother.  "  Shall  mamma  hold  the  beautiful  roses 
for  ye,  darlint?  " 

"  Please,"  answered  the  childish  treble. 

Ruth  hesitated  a  second,  and  then  rising  and 
bending  over  her  said : 

"  No ;  I  know  of  a  much  better  way.  Wouldn't 
you  like  to  have  me  fasten  them  in  your  "belt?  There 
—  now  you  can  smell  them  all  the  time." 

"  Roses  is  what  she  likes  mostly,"  proceeded  the 
mother,  garrulously,  "  and  she's  for  giving  the 
doctor  one  every  time  she  can  when  he  comes. 


52  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Faith !  it's  about  all  he  do  get  for  his  goodness,  for 
what  with  —  " 

The  sudden  opening  of  the  folding-door  inter 
rupted  her  flow  of  talk.  Seeing  the  doctor  stand 
ing  on  the  threshold  as  a  signal  for  the  next  in 
waiting  to  come  forward,  the  poor  woman  arose, 
ready  to  help  her  child  into  the  consulting-room. 

"  Let  me  help  Mamie,  Mrs.  O'Brien,"  he  said  as 
he  came  toward  her.  At  the  same  moment  the 
elegant-looking  woman  rose  from  her  chair  and 
swept  toward  him. 

"  I  believe  it's  my  turn,"  she  said,  in  response  to 
his  questioning  salutation. 

"  Certainly,  if  you  came  before  Mrs.  O'Brien.  If 
so,  walk  in,"  he  moved  aside  for  the  other  to  enter. 

"  Sure,  doctor,"  broke  in  Mrs.  O'Brien,  anxiously, 
"  we  came  in  together." 

"  Indeed?  "  He  looked  from  the  florid,  flustered 
face  to  the  haughtily  impassive  woman  beside  her. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  he,  courteously,  "  I  know  Mrs. 
O'Brien  is  wanted  at  home  by  her  little  ones.  Mrs. 
Baker,  you  won't  object,  I'm  sure." 

It  was  now  the  elegant  woman's  turn  to  flush  as 
Kemp  took  up  the  child. 

Ruth  felt  a  leap  of  delight  at  the  action.  She 
could  never  have  defined  the  sense  of  proud  exulta 
tion  thrilling  through  her,  but  she  knew  she  would 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  53 

never  see  him  in  a  better  light  than  when  he  left 
the  room  holding  the  little  charity  patient  in  his 
arms. 

She  also  noticed  with  a  tinge  of  amusement  the 
look  of  added  hauteur  on  the  face  of  Mrs.  Baker,  as 
she  returned  to  her  seat  at  the  window. 

"  Haughtiness,"  mused  Ruth,  "  is  merely  a  cloak 
to  selfishness.  What  sympathy  with  humanity  does 
that  woman  know  ?  Poor  thing !  " 

The  magazine  article  remained  unread;  she 
drifted  into  far  thoughts  and  scarcely  noticed  when 
Mrs.  Baker  left  the  room. 

"  Well,  Miss  Levice." 

She  started  up,  slightly  embarrassed,  as  the  doc 
tor's  voice  thus  aroused  her. 

"  I  was  day-dreaming,"  she  said,  coming  forward 
and  flushing  under  his  amused  smile.  "  It  was  so 
quiet  here  that  I  forgot  where  I  was." 

He  stood  aside  as  she  passed  into  the  room, 
bringing  with  her  an  exquisite  fragrance  of  roses. 

"  Will  you  sit  down  ?  "  he  asked,  turning  from 
closing  the  door. 

"  No;  it's  not  worth  while." 

"  What's  the  trouble  —  you  or  your  mother?  " 

There  had  been  nothing  disconcerting  in  the 
Irishwoman's  stare,  but  she  felt  suddenly  hot  and 
uncomfortable  under  the  doctor's  intent  gaze. 


54  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Neither  of  us,"  she  answered.  "  I  broke  the 
tonic  bottle  this  morning  and  the  number  was  de 
stroyed,  so  I  should  like  to  have  you  give  me 
another  prescription,  please." 

"  Directly.     Take  this  chair  for  a  moment." 

She  seated  herself  perforce,  and  he  took  the  chair 
beside  the  desk. 

"  How  is  she  since  yesterday  ?  "  he  asked,  writing 
without  looking  up. 

"  Quite  as  comfortable." 

He  handed  her  the  prescription  presently,  and 
she  arose  at  once.  He  stepped  forward  to  open  the 
outer  door  for  her. 

"  You're  not  worried  about  her  now,  are  you?  " 
he  questioned,  with  a  hand  on  the  knob. 

"  No ;  you've  made  us  feel  there  was  no  cause 
for  it.  If  it  weren't  for  you,  I'm  afraid  there  might 
have  been." 

"  Thanks,  but  don't  think  anything  of  the  sort. 
Your  nursing  was  as  big  a  part  of  the  game  as  my 
directions.  It  isn't  Congress,  but  the  people,  who 
make  the  country,  you  know." 

"  That's  condescending,  coming  from  Congress," 
she  laughed  gayly.  "  But  both  the  comparison  and 
—  the  association  make  me  feel  duly  proud.  Do  I 
look  terribly  '  sot  up  ?  '  " 

"  You   look  —  just   as   you   should   look.      Miss 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  55 

Levice,  may  I  beg  a  rose  of  you?  No,  not  all. 
Well,  thank  you,  they'll  look  wonderful  in  a  certain 
room  I'm  thinking  of." 

"  Yes  ?  "  There  was  a  quick  note  of  inquiry  in 
the  little  word  in  reply  to  the  doctor's  pointed  re 
mark. 

"  Yes,"  he  continued,  leaning  his  back  against  the 
door  and  looking  earnestly  down  at  the  tall  girl, 
"  the  room  of  a  lad  without  even  the  presence  of  a 
mother  to  make  it  pretty."  He  paused  as  if  to  note 
the  effect  of  his  words.  "  He's  as  lonely  and  uncom 
plaining  as  a  tree  in  a  desert;  these  roses  will  be 
a  peculiar  godsend  to  him."  He  finished  his 
sentence  with  added  warmth  at  sight  of  the  swift 
sympathy  in  her  lovely  brown  eyes. 

"  Do  you  think  he  would  care  to  see  anyone  ?  " 

"Well,"  replied  Kemp,  slowly,  "I  think  he 
wouldn't  mind  seeing  you." 

"  Then  will  you  tell  me  where  he  lives  so  that  I 
can  go  there  some  day?  " 

"  Some  day  ?  Why  not  today  ?  Would  it  be 
impossible  to  arrange  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,"  she  faltered,  looking  at  him  in  sur 
prise. 

"  You'll  forgive  my  urging  you  —  the  boy  is 
in  such  pressing  need  of  some  pleasurable  emotion 
that  as  soon  as  I  looked  at  you  and  your  roses  I 


56  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

thought,  '  Now,  that  wouldn't  be  a  bad  thing  for 
Bob.'  You  see,  I  was  simply  answering  a  question 
that's  been  bothering  me  all  day.  Then  you'll  drive 
there  with  me  now  ?  " 

"  But  there  isn't  room,"  she  said,  searching  unac 
countably  for  an  excuse. 

"  I  can  easily  dispense  with  my  driver." 

"  But  won't  my  presence  be  annoying?  "  she  per 
sisted,  still  hesitant. 

"  Not  to  me,"  he  said,  and  turned  quickly  for  his 
hat. 

She  followed  him  silently  with  a  sensation  of 
novel  excitement.  She  knew  it  was  not  the  simple 
adventure  but  the  personality  of  the  man  that  was 
lending  to  the  moment  its  piquant  charm. 

Presently  she  found  herself  comfortably  seated 
beside  him.  He  drove  off  at  a  rapid  pace. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  turning  his  horses  westward, 
"  I'll  have  to  make  a  call  out  here  on  Jones  Street 
before  going  to  Bob.  You  won't  mind  the  delay, 
Miss  Levice,  will  you?" 

"  Oh,  no.  This  is  '  my  afternoon  off,'  you  know. 
Father's  at  home,  and  mother  won't  miss  me  in  the 
least.  I  was  just  thinking  —  " 

She  came  to  a  sudden  pause.  She  had  just 
remembered  that  she  was  about  to  become  com 
municative  to  a  comparative  stranger;  the  intent, 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  57 

interested  look  in  Kemp's  eye  as  he  glanced  at  her 
was  the  disturbing  element. 

"You  were  thinking  what?"  he  prompted  with 
his  eye  now  to  the  horses'  heads. 

"  Nothing,"  she  said,  flushing  deeply.  "  I  mean, 
they'll  have  a  lovely  long  afternoon  together  — 
without  me." 

"  They  are  great  lovers,  those  two,  aren't  they  ?  " 
There  was  a  faint  tinge  of  curiosity  in  the  idle 
comment. 

"  Past-masters.  They've  been  lovering  for  almost 
a  quarter  of  a  century.  Don't  you  think  they  should 
be  experts  by  this  time  ?  " 

Kemp  checked  the  easy  irony  rising  to  his  lips. 
He  felt  anew,  with  stronger  urge,  the  individuality 
of  the  girl  beside  him,  a  certain  innocence,  quite 
distinct  from  ignorance,  a  je-ne-sais-quoi  of  youth 
ful  outlook,  not  referable  alone  to  her  youth,  which 
moved  his  steady  pulses  with  illusive  delight.  He 
quoted  softly  a  verse  from  the  Rubaiyat.  They 
spoke  of  the  poets.  .  .  .  June's  sun  and  wind 
danced  along  with  them,  to  the  beat  of  their  hearts, 
to  the  beat  of  the  horses'  hoofs.  The  moment  was 
winged,  at  least  it  seemed  so  to  Ruth. 

They  suddenly  drew  up  before  a  somewhat 
imposing  house  with  its  double  bay-windowed  front, 
and  the  doctor  sprang  out,  placed  the  reins  in  her 


58  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

proffered  hand,  and  with  a  quick,  "  I  won't  be  long," 
sprang  up  the  broad  flight  of  steps.  Ruth,  holding 
the  reins,  did  not  follow  him  with  her  eyes. 

He  had  been  in  the  house  about  five  minutes  when 
she  saw  him  come  out  hastily.  His  hat  was  pulled 
down  over  his  brows,  which  were  gathered  in  an 
unmistakable  frown.  At  the  moment  when  he 
reached  the  last  step  a  stout  woman  hurrying  along 
the  sidewalk  accosted  him  breathlessly. 

He  waited  stolidly,  his  foot  on  the  carriage  step, 
till  she  carne  up. 

"So  sorry  I  had  to  go  out!"  she  burst  forth. 
"  How  did  you  find  my  husband  ?  What  do  you 
think  of  him  ?  " 

"  Madame,"  he  replied  between  his  teeth,  "  since 
you  ask,  I  think  your  husband  is  little  short  of  an 
idiot!" 

Ruth  felt  herself  flush  as  she  heard. 

The  woman  looked  at  him  in  consternation. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  she  asked. 

"  Matter?  Stuffing's  the  matter.  If  a  man  with 
a  weak  stomach  like  his  can't  resist  gorging  himself 
with  things  he  has  been  strictly  forbidden  to  touch, 
he'd  better  admit  he's  irresponsible,  and  be  done! 
It's  nonsense  calling  me  in  when  he  persists  in  cut 
ting  up  such  capers  as  he  has  just  confessed.  Good- 
afternoon." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  59 

And  abruptly  raising  his  hat,  he  sprang  in  beside 
Ruth,  taking  the  reins  from  her  without  a  word. 

She  felt  quite  meek  and  small  beside  him,  and 
he  seemed  to  have  forgotten  her  presence  entirely. 
So  they  traveled  in  silence  in  all  the  intimacy  of  an 
uncontrolled  mood  shared  together. 

They  were  now  driving  northeast  toward  that  sec 
tion  of  the  city  known  as  the  Latin  Quarter.  The 
sweet,  fresh  breeze  on  the  western  heights  toward 
Golden  Gate  seemed  here,  in  its  agglomeration  of 
crowded,  poorer  cosmopolitanism,  to  be  charged 
with  odors  redolent  of  anything  but  the  "  shores  of 
Araby  the  blest." 

Kemp  finally  gave  vent  to  his  exasperation. 

"  Some  men,"  he  said  deliberately,  as  if  laying 
down  an  axiom,  "  have  no  more  conception  of  the 
dignity  of  controlled  appetites  than  savages.  Here 
is  one  who  couldn't  withstand  anything  savory  to 
eat,  to  save  his  soul ;  otherwise  he's  a  strong,  sensible 
man.  I  can't  account  for  it." 

"  The  force  of  habit,  perhaps,"  suggested  Ruth. 

"  Probably.  Jewish  appetite  is  known  to  dote  on 
the  fat  of  the  land." 

That  he  said  this  with  as  little  vituperation  as  if 
he  had  remarked  on  the  weather,  Ruth  knew;  and 
she  felt  no  inclination  to  resent  the  remark,  although 
a  vision  of  her  cousin  Jennie's  protesting  did  present 


60  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

itself,  for,  along  with  many  Jewish  people  of  em 
bittered  imagination,  Jennie  regarded  every  adverse 
remark  on  the  race  as  a  personal  calumny. 

"  We  always  make  the  reservation  that  the  fat  be 
clean,"  she  laughed. 

Kemp  flashed  around  at  her. 

"  Miss  Levice,"  he  exclaimed  contritely,  "  I  com 
pletely  forgot  —  I  hope  I  wasn't  rude." 

"  Why,  certainly  not,"  she  answered  half  merrily, 
half  earnestly.  "  Why  should  you  be  ?  " 

"As  you  say,  why  should  I  be?  Jewish  indi 
viduals,  of  course,  have  their  faults  like  the  rest  of 
us.  As  a  race,  most  of  their  characteristics  redound 
to  their  honor,  in  my  estimation." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  girl,  quietly.  "  I  am  very 
proud  of  many  Jewish  traits." 

"  Such  as  a  high  morality,  loyalty,  intelligence, 
filial  respect,  and  countless  other  things." 

"  Yes." 

"  Besides,  it's  wonderful  how  they  hold  the  bal 
ance  of  power  in  the  musical  and  histrionic  worlds. 
And  yet,  to  be  candid,  in  comparison  with  these, 
they  don't  seem  to  have  made  much  headway  in  the 
other  branches  of  art.  Can  you  explain  it,  Miss 
Levice?" 

He  waited  deferentially  for  a  reply. 

"  I  was  trying  to  think  of  a  proper  answer,"  she 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  61 

responded  with  earnest  simplicity ;  "  and  I  think 
that  their  great  musical  and  histrionic  powers  are 
the  results  not  so  much  of  art  as  of  passion 
inherited  from  times  and  circumstances  stern  and 
sad  since  the  race  began.  Painting  and  sculpture 
require  other  things." 

"  Which  the  Jew  cannot  obtain  ?  " 

A  soft  glow  overspread  her  face  and  mounted  to 
her  brow. 

"  Dr.  Kemp,"  she  answered,  "  we  have  begun. 
We  have  even  risen  —  artistically  speaking  —  out 
of  the  thrall  of  the  Second  Commandment.  I  should 
like  to  quote  you  the  beautiful  illustration  with 
which  one  of  our  rabbis  was  inspired  to  answer  a 
clergyman  asking  the  same  question;  but  I  should 
only  spoil  that  which  in  his  mouth  seemed  eloquent." 

"  You  would  not,  Miss  Levice.  Tell  the  story, 
please." 

They  were  on  level  ground,  and  the  doctor  could 
disengage  his  attention  from  the  horses.  He  did 
not  fail  to  note  the  emotion  which  lit  up  her  express 
ive  face  and  made  her  sweet  voice  tremble. 

"  It  is  the  story  of  the  Rose  of  Sharon.  This  is 
it  briefly :  A  pilgrim  was  about  to  start  on  a  voyage 
to  the  Holy  Land.  In  bidding  a  friend  good-bye,  he 
said :  '  In  that  far  land  to  which  I  am  journeying, 
is  there  not  some  relic,  some  sacred  souvenir  of  the 


62  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

time  beautiful,  that  I  can  bring  to  you  ?  '  The  friend 
mused  awhile.  '  Yes,'  he  made  answer  finally ; 
'  there  is  a  small  thing,  and  one  not  difficult  to 
obtain.  I  beg  of  you  to  bring  me  a  single  rose  from 
the  plains  of  Sharon.'  The  pilgrim  promised,  and 
departed.  On  his  return  he  presented  himself  be 
fore  his  friend.  '  You  have  brought  it?  '  he  cried. 
'  Friend,'  answered  the  pilgrim,  sadly,  '  I  have 
brought  your  rose;  but,  alas!  after  all  this  weary 
traveling  it  is  now  but  a  poor,  withered  thing.' 
'  Give  it  to  me ! '  exclaimed  the  friend,  eagerly.  The 
other  did  so.  True,  it  was  lifeless  and  withered; 
not  a  vestige  remained  of  its  once  fragrant  glory. 
But,  as  the  man  held  it  tenderly  in  his  hand,  memory 
and  love  untold  overcame  him,  and  he  wept  in 
ecstasy.  And  as  his  tears  fell  on  the  faded  rose,  lo ! 
the  petals  sprang  up,  flushed  into  life;  an  exquisite 
perfume  enveloped  it  —  it  had  revived  in  all  its 
beauty.  Sir,  in  the  words  of  the  rabbi,  '  In  the  light 
of  toleration  and  love,  we  too  have  revived,  we  too 
are  looking  up.' ' 

As  the  girl  paused,  Kemp  slightly,  almost  reveren 
tially,  raised  his  hat. 

"  Miss  Levice,  that  is  exquisite,"  he  said  softly. 

They  had  reached  the  old,  poorer  section  of  the 
city,  and  the  doctor  stopped  before  a  weather- 
beaten  cottage. 


OTHER  THINGS  BBING  EQUAL  63 

"  This  is  where  Bob  receives,"  he  said,  holding 
out  a  hand  to  Ruth ;  "  in  all  truth  it  can't  be  called 
a  home." 

Ruth  had  a  singular,  disturbing  feeling  of  under 
standing  with  the  doctor  as  she  went  in  with  him. 
She  dimly  realized  that  she  had  been  an  impression 
able  witness  of  some  of  his  dominant  moods,  and 
that  she  herself  had  been  led  on  to  an  unrestrained 
display  of  feeling. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THEY  walked  directly  into  a  bare,  dark  hall 
way.  There  was  no  one  stirring,  and  Kemp 
softly  opened  the  door  of  one  of  several  rooms  lead 
ing  into  the  passage.  Here  a  broad  band  of  yellow 
sunlight  fell  unrestrained  athwart  the  waxen  face 
of  a  sleeping  boy.  The  rest  of  the  simple,  meager 
room  was  in  shadow.  The  doctor  noiselessly  closed 
the  door  behind  them,  and  stepped  to  the  bed,  which 
was  covered  with  a  heavy  gray  blanket. 

The  boy  on  the  bed,  even  in  sleep,  would  not 
have  been  accounted  good-looking;  there  was  a 
heaviness  of  feature,  a  plenitude  of  freckles,  a  shock 
of  lack-lustre  hair,  which  made  poor  Bob  Bard  any 
thing  but  a  thing  of  beauty.  And  yet,  as  Ruth 
looked  at  him,  and  saw  Kemp's  firm  white  hand 
placed  gently  on  the  low  forehead,  a  great  wave  of 
tender  pity  took  possession  of  her.  Sleep  puts  the 
strongest  at  the  mercy  of  the  watcher,  and  there  was 
a  loneliness  about  this  particular  boy,  a  silent, 
expressive  plea  for  protection,  irresistibly  appeal 
ing.  Ruth  longed  to  raise  the  rough,  lonely  head  to 
her  bosom. 

64 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  65 

"  It  would  be  too  bad  to  wake  him  now,"  said  the 
doctor,  in  a  low  voice,  coming  back  to  her  side. 
"  He  is  sleeping  restfully,  and  that's  what  he  needs. 
I'm  sorry  our  little  plan  is  frustrated,  but  it  would 
be  senseless  to  wait;  there's  no  telling  when  he'll 
wake  up." 

A  shade  of  disappointment  passed  over  the  girl's 
face,  which  he  noticed. 

"  But,"  he  added  hurriedly,  "  you  might  leave 
your  roses  where  he  can't  help  seeing  them.  His 
wondering  over  their  mysterious  appearance  will 
rouse  him  sufficiently  for  one  day." 

He  watched  her  move  lightly  across  the  room  and 
fill  a  cup  with  water  from  an  earthenware  pitcher. 
She  looked  about  for  a  second  as  if  hesitating  where 
to  place  it,  and  then  quickly  drew  up  a  high-backed 
wooden  chair  close  to  the  bedside  and  placed  the 
cup  with  the  roses  upon  it  so  that  they  looked 
straight  into  the  face  of  the  slumbering  lad. 

"  We'll  go  now,"  Kemp  said,  and  opened  the 
door  for  Ruth  to  pass  before  him.  She  followed 
him  with  lingering  step,  but  on  the  threshold  drew 
back,  a  thoughtful  little  pucker  on  her  brow. 

"  I  think  I'll  wait  after  all,"  she  explained.  "  I 
should  like  to  talk  with  Bob  a  little." 

The  doctor  looked  slightly  annoyed. 

"  You'd  better  drive  home  with  me,"  he  objected. 


66  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  drawing  farther  back 
into  the  room.  "  The  Jackson  Street  cars  are  very 
convenient." 

"  But  I  should  prefer  to  have  you  come  with 
me,"  he  insisted. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to,"  she  resisted  gently.  "  I 
have  decided  to  stay." 

"  That  settles  it,  then,"  smiled  Kemp,  and  shak 
ing  her  hand,  he  went  out  alone. 

"  When  my  lady  will,  she  will ;  and  when  she 
won't,  she  won't,"  he  mused,  gathering  up  his  reins. 
But  the  terminal  point  to  the  thought  was  a  very 
wistful  smile. 

Ruth,  left  alone,  seated  herself  on  the  one  other 
chair  near  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Strange  to  say, 
though  she  gazed  at  Bob,  her  thoughts  had  flown 
out  of  the  room.  She  was  still  conscious  of  a  new 
intoxication  in  her  veins.  Had  she  cared  to  look 
the  cause  boldly  in  the  face,  she  would  have  known 
that,  to  begin  with,  she  was  flattered  by  Dr.  Kemp's 
unmistakable  desire  for  her  assistance.  She  did 
admit  that  he  must  at  least  have  looked  at  her  with 
friendly  eyes  —  but  here  her  modesty  drew  a  line 
even  for  herself,  and,  giving  herself  a  quick  mental 
shake,  she  saw  that  two  lambent  brown  eyes  were 
looking  wonderingly  at  her  from  the  face  of  the 
sick  lad. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  67 

"  How  do  you  feel  now,  Bob  ?  "  she  asked,  going 
to  him  and  smiling  down  at  him. 

The  boy  forgot  to  answer. 

"  The  doctor  brought  me  here/'  she  went  on 
brightly ;  "  but  you  were  asleep  and  he  couldn't  wait. 
Are  you  feeling  better,  Bob?  " 

The  soft,  star-like  eyes  did  not  wander  in  their 
gaze. 

"  Why  did  you  come  ?  "  he  breathed  finally.  His 
voice  was  surprisingly  musical. 

"Why?"  faltered  Ruth.  "Oh,  to  bring  you 
these  roses.  Do  you  like  flowers,  Bob?"  She 
lifted  the  mass  of  delicate  buds  toward  him.  Two 
pale,  transparent  hands  went  out  to  meet  them. 
Tenderly  as  you  sometimes  see  a  mother  press  the 
cheek  of  her  baby  to  her  own,  he  drew  them  to  his 
cheek. 

Ruth  looked  on,  wondering. 

"  Like  them !  "  he  murmured  passionately,  his 
lips  pressed  to  the  fragrant  petals. 

"  Why,  you  love  them,  don't  you!  " 

"  Lady,"  replied  the  boy,  raising  himself  to  a 
sitting  position,  "  there's  nothing  in  the  world  to 
me  like  flowers." 

"  I  never  thought  boys  cared  so  for  flowers," 
she  said  in  surprise. 

"  I'm  a  gardener,"  he  returned  simply,  and  again 


68  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

buried  his  face  in  the  roses.  Sitting  up,  he  looked 
fully  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  old. 

"  You  must  have  missed  them  during  your  ill 
ness,"  observed  Ruth. 

A  long  sigh  answered  her.  The  boy  rested  his 
glowing  eyes  upon  her.  He  was  no  longer  ugly, 
with  his  face  thus  illumined. 

"  Marechal  Niel,"  she  heard  him  murmur,  still 
with  his  eyes  upon  her.  "  You  are  like  a  Marechal 
Niel!  Lady,  I'd  like  to  put  my  Homer  rose  next 
to  you !  " 

"  What  Homer  rose?  "  asked  Ruth,  humoring  the 
flower-poet's  conceit. 

Recalled  to  himself,  the  boy  flushed  shyly.  "  It's 
—  it's  a  way  I've  got  into,"  he  stammered,  "  com 
paring  people  to  flowers.  You  can  find  a  flower  for 
nearly  everybody,  if  you're  used  to  them  —  flowers, 
I  mean.  Sometimes  I  think  some  people  and  some 
weeds  "  —  he  laughed,  excited  by  his  own  fantasy. 

"  So  do  I,"  exclaimed  Ruth,  responsive,  "  now 
that  you  make  me  think  of  it.  But  what  about  that 
Homer  rose?  " 

"  Oh,  he  —  the  doctor,  of  course.  Strong  and 
firm  and  —  enduring.  Can  — "  again  his  eyes 
glowed  like  stars  while  his  words  groped  — "  can  a 
Marechal  Niel  —  understand  —  a  Homer  ?  " 

The  girl  felt  herself  flushing  strangely.     "  Not 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  69 

as  you  do,"  she  said  quickly.  "  But  tell  me  where 
you  suffer,  Bob." 

"  I  don't  suffer,  I'm  only  weak.  But  he's  taking 
care  of  me,  and  Mrs.  Mills  brings  me  just  what  he 
orders." 

"  And  is  there  anything  you  would  like  to  have 
that  you  forgot  to  tell  him  ?  " 

"  I  never  tell  him  anything  I  want,"  replied  the 
boy  proudly.  "  He  knows  beforehand.  He  knows 
about  me  the  way  I  know  about  flowers.  He  hears 
me  think." 

It  was  like  listening  to  music  to  hear  the  slow, 
drawling  words  of  the  invalid.  Ruth's  hand  closed 
softly  over  his. 

"  I've  got  some  pretty  stories  at  home  about 
flowers,"  she  said.  "  Would  you  like  to  read 
them?" 

"  I  can't  read  —  very  well,"  answered  Bob,  in 
unabashed  simplicity. 

Yet  his  spoken  words  were  flawless. 

"Then  I'll  read  them  to  you,"  she  answered 
promptly.  "  Tomorrow,  Bob,  say,  at  about  three?  " 

"  You  are  coming  again  ?  "  The  heavy  mouth 
quivered  in  eager  surprise. 

"  Why,  yes ;  now  that  I  know  you,  I'm  going  to 
know  you  better.  May  I  come?  " 

"Oh,  lady!" 


70  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Ruth  went  out  enveloped  in  that  look  of  grati 
tude.  It  was  the  most  spontaneous  expression  of 
warm  gratitude  she  had  ever  received,  and  as  she 
walked  down  the  steep  hill,  she  longed  to  be  doing 
something  really  helpful  to  the  many  Bobs.  Social 
service  was  still  in  its  infancy,  unorganized,  spas 
modic,  individual,  still  groping  its  way  through 
rigid  sectarianism,  into  a  Fruit  and  Flower  Mis 
sion  here,  a  Pioneer  Kindergarten  there.  Besides, 
Ruth  had  led,  on  the  whole,  so  far,  an  egoistic 
life. 

Up  to  the  present,  her  parents,  between  them,  had 
claimed  or  planned  most  of  her  time.  During  her 
school  years  she  had  been  a  sort  of  human  reservoir 
for  all  her  father's  ideas,  whims,  and  hobbies.  True, 
he  had  given  her  an  interest  in  most  things  within 
her  line  of  vision.  Hanging  on  his  arm  as  they 
wandered  off  daily  in  their  peripatetic  school,  he 
had  informed  her  outlook  with  a  certain  essence  of 
nobility,  due  to  the  potential  beauty  which  the 
visionary  finds  in  the  meanest  thing.  But  while 
this  theoretic  life  had  been  immensely  inspiring 
and  interesting,  she  had,  as  yet,  given  it  no  prac 
tical  testing.  For  the  past  six  months,  after  a 
year's  travel  in  Europe,  her  mother  had  led  her  on 
in  a  whirl  of  what  constituted  to  Mrs.  Levice  a 
girl's  acme  of  happiness.  But  Ruth,  peculiarly 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  71 

grounded  as  she  was,  had  soon  gauged  the  worth 
of  the  tyranny  Society  has  imposed  upon  its  devo 
tees,  and  now  that  a  lull  had  come,  she  realized  that 
she  needed  an  interest  outside  and  beyond  herself. 

So  immersed  was  she  in  this  call  of  her  deeper 
being,  she  walked  on,  unconscious  of  her  foreign 
and  picturesque  surroundings,  the  old  gray  Greek 
church  with  its  dome  and  minarets,  the  long  flights 
of  wooden  steps  leading  up  to  the  tinder-box  homes 
with  their  spindly  balconies,  the  Italian  fishermen 
and  bambinos,  the  Negroes  and  gayly-garbed 
Negresses,  the  blue-smocked  Chinese  with  their 
queues,  trotting  along  imperturbably  —  the  whole 
motley  bouquet  of  the  Latin  quarter. 

A  hand  suddenly  laid  upon  her  shoulder  startled 
her  roughly. 

"  What  are  you  doing  in  this  part  of  town?" 
broke  in  Louis  Arnold's  voice  in  evident  anger. 

"  Oh,  Louis,  how  you  frightened  me !  What's  the 
matter  with  this  part  of  town  ?  " 

:'  You  are  on  a  very  disreputable  street.  Where 
are  you  going?  " 

"  Home." 

"  Then  be  so  kind  as  to  turn  back  with  me  and 
take  the  car." 

She  glanced  at  him  quickly,  unused  to  his  tone  of 
command,  and  turned  with  him. 


72  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  How  do  you  happen  to  be  here?  "  he  demanded 
shortly. 

"  Dr.  Kemp  took  me  to  see  a  poor  patient  of 
his." 

"  Dr.  Kemp  ?  "  Surprise  raised  his  eyebrows 
grotesquely. 

"  Yes." 

"  Indeed !  Then,"  he  continued  in  cool,  biting 
displeasure,  "  why  didn't  he  carry  his  charity  a  little 
farther  and  take  you  home  again?  " 

"  Because  I  didn't  choose  to  go  with  him,"  she 
returned,  rearing  her  head  and  looking  calmly  at 
him  as  they  walked  along. 

"  Bosh !  What  had  your  choosing  or  not  choos 
ing  to  do  with  it?  The  man  knew  where  he  had 
taken  you  even  if  you  did  not  know.  This  quarter 
is  occupied  by  nothing  but  Negroes  and  Chinamen, 
and  foreign  immigrants  and  adventurers,  and  — 
and  worse!  It  was  decidedly  ungentlemanly  to 
leave  you  to  return  alone  at  this  time  of  the 
evening." 

"  Probably  he  gave  me  credit  for  being  able  to 
take  care  of  myself  in  broad  daylight." 

"  Probably  he  never  gave  it  a  second's  thought 
one  way  or  the  other.  Hereafter  you  had  better 
consult  your  natural  protectors  before  starting  out 
on  quixotic  excursions  with  indifferent  strangers." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  73 

"Louis!" 

She  stamped  her  foot  angrily. 

"Well?" 

"  Stop  that,  please.    You  are  not  my  keeper !  " 

Her  cousin  smiled  quizzically.  They  took  their 
seats  on  the  dummy,  just  as  the  sun,  a  golden  ball, 
was  about  to  glide  behind  Lone  Mountain.  It  was 
that  quiet,  dreamy  time  of  late  afternoon,  and  Ruth 
and  Louis  did  not  speak  for  a  while. 

The  girl  was  experiencing  a  whirl  of  conflicting 
emotions  —  anger  at  Louis'  interference,  pleasure 
at  his  protecting  care,  annoyance  at  what  he  consid 
ered  gross  negligence  on  the  doctor's  part,  and  a 
sneaking  pride,  in  defiance  of  his  insinuations,  in 
the  thought  that  Kemp  had  trusted  to  her  woman 
liness  as  a  safeguard  against  any  chance  annoyance. 
She  also  felt  ashamed  of  having  shown  temper. 

"  Louis,"  she  ventured  finally,  rubbing  her  shoul 
der  against  his,  as  gentle  animals  conciliate  their 
mates,  "  I'm  sorry  I  was  so  cross,  but  it  exasperates 
me  to  hear  you  cast  slurs,  as  you've  done  before, 
upon  Dr.  Kemp  —  behind  his  back." 

"  Why  should  it,  my  dear,  since  it  gives  you  a 
chance  to  uphold  him?  " 

There  is  a  way  of  saying  "  my  dear  "  that  is  as 
mortifying  as  a  slap  in  the  face,  and  Arnold  used 
that  way. 


74  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

The  dark  blood  surged  over  the  girl's  cheeks. 
She  drew  a  long,  hard  breath,  then  said  in  a  low 
voice : 

"  I  think  we  won't  quarrel,  Louis.  Will  you  get 
off  at  the  next  corner  with  me?  I  have  a  prescrip 
tion  to  be  made  up  at  the  druggist's." 

"  Certainly." 

Arnold  was  all-courteous  again. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MRS.  LEVICE  was  slowly  gaming  the  high 
road  to  recovery,  and  many  of  the  restric 
tions  for  her  cure  had  been  removed.  As  a 
consequence,  and  with  an  eye  ever  to  Ruth's  social 
duties,  she  urged  her  to  leave  her  more  and  more  to 
herself. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Ruth  laid  the  case  of  Bob 
and  his  neighborhood  before  her  father's  considera 
tion.  A  Jewish  girl's  life  was,  at  that  epoch,  an 
open  page  to  her  family.  Matters  of  small  as  well 
as  of  larger  moment  were  freely  shared  and  dis 
cussed  —  a  good  clearing-house  institution  which 
guarded  against  many  indiscretions.  This  may 
have  been  a  relic  of  more  restricted  days,  days  sadly 
narrowing,  but  broadly  beautiful  in  that  they  im 
planted  an  unconquerable  love  of  home  and  family 
in  the  core  of  every  Jewish  heart,  a  love  which 
lies  at  the  root  of  all  a  Jew's  best  inspirations.  It 
was  as  natural  for  Ruth  to  consult  her  father  in  this 
trivial  matter,  in  view  of  Arnold's  disapproval,  as 
it  was  for  her  friend,  Dorothy  Gwynne,  to  sally 

75 


76  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

anywhere  as  long  as  she  herself  felt  justified  in  so 
doing. 

Ruth  ardently  wished  to  go,  and  as  her  father, 
after  considering  the  matter,  could  find  no  objection, 
she  went.  After  that  it  was  enough  to  tell  her 
mother  that  she  was  going  to  see  Bob.  Mrs.  Levice 
had  heard  the  doctor  speak  of  him  to  Ruth,  and  any 
little  charity  that  came  in  her  way  she  was  only  too 
happy  to  forward. 

Bob's  plain,  ungarnished  room  soon  began  to 
show  signs  of  beauty  under  Ruth's  deft  fingers.  A 
pot  of  mignonette  in  the  window,  a  small  painting 
of  exquisite  chrysanthemums  on  the  wall,  a  daily 
bunch  of  fresh  roses,  were  the  food  she  brought 
for  his  poet  soul.  But  there  were  other  substantial 
things. 

The  day  after  she  had  replaced  the  coarse  horse- 
blanket  with  a  soft  quilt,  the  doctor  made  one  of 
his  bi-weekly  visits  to  her  mother. 

As  he  stood  taking  leave  of  Ruth  on  the  veranda, 
he  turned,  with  his  foot  on  the  last  step,  and  looked 
up  at  her  as  if  arrested  by  a  sudden  thought. 

"  Miss  Levice,"  said  he,  "  I'd  like  to  give  you  a 
friendly  scolding.  May  I  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  prevent  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  indulge  Bob's 
love  of  luxury  as  you  do.  He  positively  refused  to 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  77 

get  up  yesterday  on  account  of  the  '  soft  feel/  as  he 
put  it,  of  that  quilt.  Now,  you  know,  he  must  get 
up;  he's  able  to,  and  in  a  week  I  want  to  start  him 
in  to  work  again.  Then  he  won't  be  able  to  afford 
such  '  soft  feels,'  and  he'll  rebel.  He's  had  enough 
coddling  for  his  own  good.  I  really  think  it's  mis 
taken  kindness,  Miss  Levice." 

The  girl  was  leaning  lightly  against  one  of  the 
supporting  columns.  A  smile  played  about  her  lips 
while  she  listened. 

"  Dr.  Kemp,"  she  replied,  "  may  I  give  you  a 
little  friendly  scolding?" 

"  You  have  every  right."  His  tone  was  very 
earnest,  despite  his  smiling  eyes.  For  a  fleeting 
moment  Ruth  let  the  new  note  in  his  voice  possess 
her,  then, 

"  Well,  don't  you  think  it's  rather  hard  of  you  to 
deprive  poor  Bob  of  any  pleasure  today  may  bring, 
on  the  ground  that  tomorrow  he  may  wish  it  too, 
and  won't  be  able  to  have  it?  " 

"  As  you  put  it,  it  does  seem  so ;  but  I'm  hard 
enough  to  want  you  to  see  it  as  practically  as  I  do. 
Put  sentiment  aside,  and  the  only  sensible  thing  to 
be  done  now  is  to  prepare  him  for  the  hard,  uncush- 
ioned  facts  of  a  hard  life." 

"  But  why  must  it  be  so  hard  for  him?  " 

"Why?     In  the  face  of  the  inevitable,  that's  a 


78  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

time-wasting,  useless  question.  Life  is  so;  even  if 
we  find  the  underlying  cause,  the  discovery  won't 
alter  the  fact." 

"  Yes,  it  will." 

"How?" 

"  By  its  enabling  us  to  turn  our  backs  on  the 
hard  way  and  seeking  a  softer." 

"  You  forget  that  strait-jacket  to  all  inclination 
—  circumstance." 

"  And  aren't  you  forgetting  that  friendly  hands 
may  help  to  loosen  the  strait- jacket?  " 

Her  lovely  face  looked  very  winning,  there  above 
him. 

"  Good !  "  said  he,  raising  his  hat  and  forgetting 
to  replace  it  while  he  spoke.  "  That's  a  gentle 
truth;  some  day  we'll  discuss  it  further.  For  the 
present,  use  your  influence  in  getting  Bob  upon  his 
feet." 

"  Yes."  She  gave  a  hurried  glance  at  the  door 
behind  her,  and  ran  quickly  down  to  the  lowest 
step.  "  Dr.  Kemp,"  said  she,  a  little  breathlessly, 
"  I've  wanted  for  some  time  to  ask  you  to  let  me 
know  when  you  have  any  cases  that  require  assist 
ance  outside  of  a  physician's  —  such  as  my  father 
or  I  might  lend.  You  must  have  an  immense  field 
for  such  opportunities.  Will  you  think  of  me 
then,  please?" 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  79 

"  I  will,"  he  replied,  looking  with  musing  joy  into 
her  flushed  face.  "  Going  in  for  philanthropy,  Miss 
Levice  ?  " 

"  No ;  going  out  for  it,  thank  you ;  "  and  she  put 
her  hand  into  his  outstretched  one.  She  watched 
him  step  into  his  carriage ;  he  turned  and  raised  his 
hat  again  —  their  eyes  met  and  held  each  other  in 
sudden,  sweet  recognition.  Then  he  was  gone. 

He  did  not  fail  to  keep  his  promise,  and  once  on 
the  lookout  for  "  cases  "  herself,  Ruth  soon  found 
enough  irons  in  the  fire  to  occupy  her  spare  hours. 

Mrs.  Levice,  however,  insisted  upon  her  resuming 
her  place  in  society. 

"  A  young  girl  can't  withdraw  herself  from  her 
sphere,  or  people  will  either  consider  her  eccentric  or 
will  forget  her  entirely.  Don't  be  unreasonable, 
Ruth;  there's  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't  enjoy 
every  function  in  our  circle,  and  Louis  is  always 
happy  to  take  you.  When  he  asked  you  if  you'd 
go  with  him  to  the  Art  Exhibition  on  Friday  night, 
I  heard  you  say  you  didn't  know.  Now,  why?  " 

"  Oh,  that  ?  I  never  gave  it  a  second's  thought. 
I  promised  father  to  go  with  him  in  the  afternoon ;  I 
didn't  consider  it  worth  an  explanation." 

"  But,  you  see,  I  did.  It  looks  very  queer  for 
Louis  to  be  traveling  around  by  himself;  couldn't 
you  go  again  in  the  evening  with  him  ?  " 


80  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Of  course,  you  over-thoughtful  aunt.  If  the 
pictures  are  good,  a  second  visit  won't  be  thrown 
away, —  that  is,  if  Louis  is  really  anxious  to  have 
me  with  him.  But,  '  I  doubt  it,  I  doubt  it,  I  do.'  " 

"  What  nonsense !  "  returned  her  mother,  testily. 
"  Why  shouldn't  he  be  ?  You  are  always  amiable 
together,  aren't  you?" 

"  Well,"  she  said,  knitting  her  brows  and  pursing 
her  lips  musingly,  "  that,  methinks,  depends  on  the 
limits  and  requirements  of  amiability.  If  disputa 
tion  showeth  a  friendly  spirit,  then  is  my  lord  over- 
friendly;  for  it  oft  hath  seemed  of  late  to  pleasure 
his  mood  to  wax  disputatious  —  though,  in  sooth, 
lady  fair,  I  have  always  maintained  a  wary  and 
decorous  demeanor." 

"  I  can  imagine,"  laughed  her  mother,  with  a 
frown.  "  Then  you'll  go  ?  " 

"Why  not?" 

If  Arnold  really  cared  for  the  outcome  of  such 
maneuvers,  Mrs.  Levice's  exertions  bore  some  fruit. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THERE  are  few  communities,  comparatively 
speaking,  with  more  enthusiastic  theater- 
lovers  than  are  to  be  found  in  San  Francisco.  The 
play  was  one  of  the  few  worldly  pleasures  Mr. 
Levice  thoroughly  enjoyed.  When  a  great  star  was 
heralded,  he  was  in  a  feverish  delight  until  he  had 
come  and  gone.  When  Bernhardt  appeared,  the  quiet 
little  man  fully  earned  the  often  indiscriminately 
applied  title  of  "  crazy  Frenchman."  A  Frenchman 
is  never  so  much  one  as  when  confronted  in  a 
foreign  land  with  a  great  French  creation;  every 
fiber  in  his  body  answers  each  charm  with  an  appre 
ciation  worked  to  fever-heat  by  patriotic  love;  at 
such  times  the  play  of  his  emotions  precludes  any 
idea  of  reason  to  an  onlooker.  Bernhardt  was  one 
of  Levice's  passions.  Booth  was  another,  though 
he  took  him  more  composedly.  The  first  time  the 
latter  appeared  at  the  Baldwin  Theater  (his  opening 
play  was  Hamlet)  the  Levices  —  that  is,  Ruth  and 
her  father  —  went  three  times  in  succession  to  wit 
ness  his  matchless  performance,  and  every  suc- 

81 


82  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

ceeding  characterization  but  strengthened  their 
enthusiasm. 

Booth  was  coming  again.  The  announcement  had 
been  rapturously  hailed  by  the  Levices. 

"  It  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  go  together, 
father,"  Ruth  remarked  at  the  breakfast-table. 
"  Louis  will  have  to  take  me  on  alternate  nights, 
while  you  stay  at  home  with  mamma.  Did  you 
hear,  Louis  ?  " 

"  You  will  hardly  need  to  do  that,"  answered 
Arnold,  lowering  his  cup.  "If  you  and  your  father 
prefer  going  together,  I  shall  enjoy  staying  with 
your  mother  on  those  nights." 

"  Thanks  for  the  offer  —  and  your  evident  de 
light  in  my  company,"  laughed  Ruth  with  a  little 
grimace.  "  But  there's  one  play  to  which  you'll 
have  to  take  me.  Don't  you  remember  we  always 
wanted  to  see  his  Merchant  of  Venice  and  judge 
for  ourselves  his  interpretation  of  the  character? 
Well,  I'm  determined  that  we  must  see  it  together." 

"When  does  he  play  it?" 

"  A  week  from  Saturday  night." 

"  Sorry  to  disappoint  you,  but  I  shall  be  out  of 
town  at  the  end  of  next  week." 

"  Oh  dear!  Honestly?  Can't  you  put  it  off ?  I 
want  so  much  to  go !  " 

"  Impossible.     Go  with  your  father." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  83 

"  You  know  very  well  neither  of  us  would  go  off 
and  leave  mamma  alone  at  night.  It's  horrid  of 
you  to  go.  I'm  sure  you  could  manage  differently 
if  —  " 

"  Why,  my  child !  " 

She  was  almost  crying,  and  her  father's  quiet  tone 
of  surprised  reprimand  just  headed  off  two  great 
tears  that  threatened  to  fall. 

"  I  know/'  she  said,  trying  to  smile,  and  showing 
an  April  face  instead,  "  but  I  had  just  set  my  heart 
on  going,  and  with  Louis  too." 

"  That  comes  of  being  a  spoilt  only  child,"  put  in 
Arnold,  teasingly.  "  You  ought  to  know  by  this 
time  that  of  the  many  plans  we  make  with  ourselves, 
nine  out  of  ten  come  to  nothing.  Before  you  set 
your  heart  on  a  thing,  be  sure  you  will  not  have  to 
give  it  up." 

Ruth,  still  sore  with  disappointment,  acknowl 
edged  this  philosophic  remark  with  a  curled  lip. 

"  There,  save  your  tears  for  something  more 
worthy,"  cut  in  Levice,  briskly.  "If  you  care  so 
much  about  it,  we,  or  chance,  must  arrange  it  for 
you." 

But  chance  in  this  instance  was  not  propitious. 
Wednesday  came,  and  Arnold  saw  no  way  of 
accommodating  her.  He  left  town  after  taking 
her  to  see  The  Fool's  Revenge  as  a  compromise. 


84  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  You  seemed  to  be  enjoying  the  poor  Fool's 
troubles  last  night,"  observed  Dr.  Kemp,  in  the 
morning.  They  were  still  standing  in  Mrs.  Levice's 
room. 

"  I ?  Not  enjoying  his  troubles;  I  enjoyed  Booth, 
though  —  if  you  can  call  it  enjoyment  when  your 
heart  is  ready  to  break  for  him.  Were  you  there? 
I  didn't  see  you/' 

"  No,  I  don't  suppose  you  did,  or  you  would  have 
been  in  the  pitiable  condition  of  the  princess  who 
had  her  head  turned.  I  sat  directly  back  of  your 
box,  in  the  dress-circle.  Then  you  like  Booth?  " 

"  Take  care!  that's  a  dangerous  subject  with  my 
family,"  broke  in  Mrs.  Levice.  "  Ruth  has  actually 
exhausted  every  adjective  in  her  admiration  vocabu 
lary.  The  last  extravaganza  I  heard  from  her  on 
that  theme  was  after  she  had  seen  him  as  Brutus: 
she  wished  herself  Lucius,  that,  in  the  tent  scene, 
she  might  kiss  Booth's  hand." 

"  It  sounds  gushing  enough  for  a  schoolgirl 
now,"  laughed  Ruth,  blushing  under  his  eyes,  "  but 
at  the  time,  I  meant  it." 

"Have  you  seen  him  in  all  his  repertoire?"  he 
asked. 

"  In  everything  but  Shylock." 

"  You'll  have  a  chance  for  that  on  Saturday 
night.  It  will  be  a  great  farewell  performance." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  85 

"  Undoubtedly,  but  I  shall  have  to  forego  that 
last  glimpse  of  him." 

"  Now,  doctor,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Levice,  "  will 
you  please  impress  it  on  her  that  I'm  not  a  lunatic 
and  can  be  left  alone  without  fear?  She  is  wild  to 
go  Saturday  night,  but  won't  go  with  her  father,  on 
the  ground  that  I'll  be  left  alone.  Mr.  Arnold  is 
out  of  town.  Isn't  that  being  unnecessarily  solic 
itous  ?  " 

"  Surely.  But,"  he  added,  turning  deferentially 
to  Ruth,  "  in  lieu  of  a  better  escort,  how  would  I 
do,  Miss  Levice  ?  " 

"  I  don't  understand." 

"  Will  you  come  with  me  Saturday  night  to  see 
Shylock?" 

Ruth  was  embarrassed.  The  doctor  had  said 
neither  "  will  you  honor  me  "  nor  "  will  you  please 
me,"  but  he  had  more  than  pleased  and  honored  her. 
She  turned  a  pair  of  radiant  eyes  to  her  mother. 
"  Come  now,  Mrs.  Levice,"  laughed  Kemp,  noting 
the  action,  "  will  you  let  your  little  girl  go  with  me  ? 
Don't  detain  me  with  a  refusal;  it  will  be  impossi 
ble  to  accept  one  now,  and  I  won't  be  around  till 
then,  you  know.  Good-morning." 

Unwittingly,  the  doctor  had  caused  an  excitement 
in  the  hearts  both  of  mother  and  daughter.  The 
latter  was  naturally  surprised  at  his  unexpected  invi- 


86  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

tation,  but  surprise  was  soon  obliterated  by  another 
and  quite  a  different  feeling,  which  she  kept  rigor 
ously  to  herself.  Mrs.  Levice  was  frankly  in  a 
dilemma  about  it,  and  consulted  her  husband  in  the 
evening. 

"  By  all  means,  let  her  go,"  replied  he.  "  Why 
should  you  have  had  any  misgivings  about  it?  I'm 
sure  I'm  glad  she  is  going." 

"  But,  Jules,  you  forget  that  none  of  our  Jewish 
friends  let  their  girls  go  out  with  strangers." 

"  Is  that  part  of  our  religion?  " 

"  No ;  but  custom  is  in  itself  a  religion.  People 
do  talk  so  at  every  little  innovation  against  conven 
tion." 

"What  will  they  say?  Nothing  detrimental 
either  to  Ruth  or  the  doctor.  Pshaw,  Esther!  you 
ought  to  feel  proud  that  Dr.  Kemp  has  asked  the 
child.  If  she  wishes  to  go,  don't  set  an  impossible 
bogy  in  the  way  of  her  enjoyment.  Besides,  you 
don't  care  to  appear  so  silly  as  you  would  if  you 
said  to  the  doctor,  ' 1  can't  let  her  go  on  account  of 
people's  tongues,'  and  that  is  the  only  honest  excuse 
you  can  offer."  So,  in  his  forthright  way,  he 
decided  it. 

On  Saturday  night  Ruth  stood  in  the  drawing- 
room  buttoning  her  pale  suede  glove.  Kemp  had 
not  yet  come  in.  She  looked  unusually  well  in  her 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  87 

dull  sage-green  gown.  A  tiny  toque  of  the  same 
color  rested  on  her  soft  dark  hair.  The  creamy 
pallor  of  her  face,  the  firm,  white  throat  revealed 
by  the  broad  rolling  collar,  her  grave  lips  and 
dreamy  eyes,  hardly  told  that  she  was  feeling  a 
little  shy.  Presently  the  bell  rang,  and  Kemp  came 
in,  his  open  overcoat  revealing  the  evening  dress 
which  became  him  well.  He  came  forward  hastily. 

"  I'm  a  little  late,"  he  said,  holding,  her  hand, 
"  but  it  was  unavoidable.  Ten  minutes  to  eight  — 
the  horses  must  make  good  time." 

"  It's  slightly  chilly  tonight,  isn't  it?  "  she  asked, 
for  want  of  something  better  to  say,  turning  for  her 
wrap. 

"  I  didn't  feel  it,"  he  replied,  intercepting  her. 
"  But  this  furry  thing  will  keep  the  cold  off,  if  there 
is  any."  He  held  it  for  her,  and  quite  unprofes- 
sionally  bent  his  head  to  hook  it  at  her  throat.  A 
bewildering  sensation  shot  through  Ruth  as  his  face 
approached  so  close  to  her  own. 

"  How  are  your  mother  and  father  ?  "  he  asked, 
holding  the  door  open,  while  she  turned  for  her  fan. 

"  They're  as  usual,"  she  answered.  "  Father  ex 
pects  to  see  you  after  the  play.  You  will  come  in 
for  a  little  supper,  won't  you?  " 

"  That  sounds  alluring,"  he  responded  lightly,  his 
quick  eye  remarking,  as  she  came  toward  him,  the 


88  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

dainty  femininity  of  her  loveliness,  which  seemed 
to  have  caught  a  grace  beyond  the  reach  of  art. 

It  thus  happened  that  they  took  their  places  just 
as  the  curtain  rose. 


CHAPTER  IX 

EVERYBODY  knows  the  sad  old  drama,  as 
differently  interpreted  in  its  graver  sentiment 
as  there  are  different  interpreters.  Ruth  had  seen 
one  who  made  of  Shylock  merely  a  fawning,  mer 
cenary,  loveless,  bloodthirsty  wretch.  She  had 
seen  another  who  presented  a  man  of  quick  wit, 
ready  tongue,  great  dignity,  greater  vengeance, 
silent  of  love,  wordy  of  hate.  Booth,  without 
throwing  any  romantic  glamour  on  the  Jew,  showed 
him  as  God  and  man,  but  mostly  man,  had  made 
him:  an  old  Jew,  grown  bitter  in  the  world's  dis 
favor  through  fault  of  race;  grown  old  in  strife 
for  the  only  worldly  power  vouchsafed  him  — 
gold ;  grown  old  with  but  one  human  love  to  lighten 
his  hard  existence;  a  man  who,  at  length,  shorn  of 
his  two  loves  through  the  same  medium  that  had 
robbed  him  of  his  manhood's  birthright,  now 
turned  fiend,  endeavors  with  tooth  and  nail  to  wreak 
the  smoldering  vengeance  of  a  lifetime  upon  the 
chance  representative  of  an  inexorable  persecution. 
All  through  the  performance  Ruth  sat  a  silent, 

89 


90  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

attentive  listener.  Kemp,  with  his  ready  laugh  at 
Gratiano's  sallies,  would  turn  a  quick  look  at  her 
for  sympathy ;  he  was  rather  surprised  at  the  grave, 
unsmiling  face  beside  him.  When,  however,  the 
old  Jew  staggered  alone  and  almost  blindly  from 
the  triumphantly  smiling  court-room,  a  little  pinch 
on  his  arm  decidedly  startled  him. 

He  lowered  his  glass  and  turned  toward  her  so 
suddenly  that  Ruth  started. 

"Oh,"  she  faltered,  "I  — I  beg  your  pardon;  I 
had  forgotten  you  weren't  Louis." 

"  I  don't  mind  in  the  least,"  he  assured  her 
easily. 

The  last  act  passes  merrily  and  quickly ;  only  the 
severe,  great  things  of  life  move  slowly. 

As  the  doctor  and  Ruth  made  their  way  through 
the  crowded  lobby,  the  latter  thought  she  had  never 
seen  so  many  acquaintances,  each  of  whom  turned 
an  interested  look  upon  her  stalwart  escort.  Of  this 
she  was  perfectly  aware,  but  the  same  human  inter 
est  with  which  Kemp's  acquaintances  regarded  her 
passed  by  her,  unnoticed. 

A  moment  later  they  were  in  the  fresh,  open  air. 

"  How  beautiful  it  is !  "  said  Ruth,  looking  up  at 
the  stars.  "  How  the  stars  glow ;  and  the  wind  has 
entirely  died  away." 

"  '  On  such  a  night/  "  quoth  Kemp,  as  they  ap- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  91 

preached  the  curb,  "  a  closed  carriage  seems  out  of 
season. " 

"  And  reason/'  supplemented  Ruth,  while  the 
doctor  reluctantly  opened  the  door.  She  glanced  at 
him  hesitatingly. 

"  Would  you  —  "  she  began. 

"  Right !     I  would !  "     The  door  was  banged  to. 

"  John,"  he  said,  looking  up  at  his  man  in  the 
box,  "  take  this  trap  around  to  the  stable ;  I  won't 
need  the  horses  again  tonight." 

John  touched  his  hat,  and  Kemp  drew  his  com 
panion's  little  hand  through  his  arm. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  as  they  turned  the  corner, 
"  were  you  satisfied  with  the  great  man  tonight?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  meditatively,  "  fully ;  there 
was  no  exaggeration  —  it  was  all  quite  natural." 

"  Except  Jessica  in  boy's  clothes." 

"  Don't  mention  her,  please ;  I  detest  her." 

"  And  yet  she  spoke  quite  prettily  on  the  night." 

"  I  didn't  hear  her." 

"  Why,  where  were  you  while  all  the  world  was 
making  merry  on  the  stage?  " 

"  Not  with  them ;  I  was  with  the  weary,  heart 
broken  old  man  who  passed  out  when  joy  began." 

"Ah!  I  fancied  you  didn't  half  appreciate  Gra- 
tiano's  jesting.  Miss  Levice,  I'm  afraid  you  allow 
the  sorry  things  of  life  to  take  too  strong  a  hold  on 


92  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

you.  It  isn't  right.  I  assure  you  for  every  tear 
there's  a  laugh,  and  you  must  learn  to  give  each  its 
deference  due." 

"I'm  sorry,"  replied  Ruth,  quietly,  "but  I'm 
afraid  I  can't  learn  that  —  tears  are  always  stronger 
than  laughter.  How  could  I  listen  to  the  others' 
nonsense  when  my  heart  was  sobbing  with  that 
lonely  old  man?  Forgive  me,  but  I  can't  forget 
him." 

They  walked  along  silently  for  some  time.  In 
stinctively,  each  felt  the  perfect  accord  with  which 
they  kept  step.  Ruth's  little  ear  was  just  about  on 
a  level  with  the  doctor's  chin.  He  hardly  felt  the 
soft  touch  of  her  hand  upon  his  sleeve,  but  as  he 
looked  at  the  white  profile  of  her  cheek  against  the 
dark  fur  of  her  collar,  the  knowledge  that  she  was 
there  was  a  disturbingly  pleasing  one. 

"  Did  you  consider  the  length  of  our  walk  when 
you  fell  in  so  promptly  with  my  wish?  "  he  asked 
presently. 

"  I  like  a  long  walk  in  pleasant  weather ;  I  never 
tire  of  walking." 

"  You've  found  the  essentials  of  a  good  pedes 
trian  —  health  and  strength." 

"Yes;  if  everybody  were  like  me,  all  your  skill 
would  be  thrown  away  —  I'm  never  ill." 

"  There's   no  reason  why  you  should  be,  with 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  93 

common-sense  to  back  your  blessings.  If  common- 
sense  could  be  bought  at  the  drug-store,  I  should 
be  rid  of  a  great  many  patients." 

"  That  reminds  me  of  a  snatch  of  conversation  I 
once  overheard  between  my  mother  and  a  doctor's 
wife.  I'm  reminded  of  it  because  the  spirit  of  your 
meaning  is  so  different  from  hers.  After  some 
talk  my  mother  asked,  '  And  how  is  the  doctor  ? ' 
1  Oh,'  replied  her  visitor,  with  a  long  sigh,  '  he's 
well  enough  in  body,  but  he's  blue,  terribly  blue; 
everybody  is  so  well,  you  know.' ' 

"  More  human  than  humane,"  laughed  Kemp. 
He  was  glad  to  see  that  she  had  roused  herself 
from  her  sad  musings ;  but  a  certain  set  purpose  he 
had  formed  robbed  him  now  of  his  former  lightness 
of  manner. 

He  was  about  to  broach  a  subject  requiring  deli 
cate  handling,  but  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  the 
womanly  character  of  the  girl  aided  him  much. 
It  was  not  so  much  what  he  had  seen  her  dot  as 
what  he  knew  she  was,  that  led  him  to  begin  his 
recital. 

"  We  have  a  good  many  blocks  before  us  yet,"  he 
said,  "  and  I'm  going  to  tell  you  a  little  story.  Why 
don't  you  take  the  full  benefit  of  my  arm?  There," 
he  proceeded,  drawing  her  hand  farther  through  his 
arm,  "  now  you  feel  more  like  a  big  girl  than  a  bit 


94  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

of  thistledown.  If  I  get  tiresome,  just  call  '  time/ 
will  you  ?  " 

"  All  right,"  she  assented.  She  was  beginning  to 
meet  halfway  this  matter-of-fact,  unadorned, 
friendly  manner  of  his,  and  when  she  did  meet  it, 
she  felt  a  comfortable  security  in  it.  From  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  his  short  narrative  he  looked 
straight  ahead. 

"  How  shall  I  begin  ?  Do  you  like  fairy  tales  ? 
Well,  this  is  the  soul  of  one  without  the  fictional 
wings.  Once  upon  a  time  —  I  think  that's  the  very 
best  introduction  going  —  a  woman  was  left  a 
widow  with  one  little  girl.  She  lived  in  New  Or 
leans,  where  the  blow  of  her  husband's  death  and 
the  loss  of  her  good  fortune  came  almost  simul 
taneously.  She  must  have  had  little  moral  courage, 
for  as  soon  as  she  could  she  left  her  home,  not 
being  able  to  face  the  inevitable  falling  off  of 
friends  that  generally  follows  loss  of  fortune.  She 
wandered  over  the  intermediate  States  between 
here  and  Louisiana,  stopping  nowhere  long,  but  en 
deavoring  to  keep  together  the  bodies  and  souls  of 
herself  and  child  by  teaching. 

"  They  kept  this  up  for  years  until  the  mother 
succumbed.  They  were  on  the  way  from  Nevada 
to  Los  Angeles  when  she  died.  The  daughter,  then 
not  eighteen,  went  on  to  Los  Angeles,  where  she 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  95 

buried  her  mother,  and  endeavored  to  find  private 
teaching,  as  she  had  been  doing  before.  She  was 
young,  unsophisticated,  sad,  and  in  want,  in  a 
strange  town.  She  applied  for  advice  to  a  man 
highly  honored  and  recommended  by  his  fellow- 
citizens.  The  man  played  the  brute.  The  girl  fled 
—  anywhere.  Had  she  been  less  brave,  she  would 
have  fled  from  herself.  She  came  to  San  Francisco 
and  took  a  position  as  nurse-maid;  children,  she 
thought,  could  not  play  her  false,  and  she  might 
outlive  it.  The  hope  was  cruel.  She  was  living 
near  my  home,  had  seen  my  sign  probably,  and,  in 
the  extremity  of  her  distress,  came  to  me.  There's 
a  good  woman  who  keeps  a  lodging-house,  and  who 
delights  in  doing  me  favors.  I  left  the  poor  child 
in  her  hands,  and  she's  now  fully  recovered. 

"  As  a  physician  I  can  do  nothing  more  for  her, 
and  yet  melancholy  has  almost  made  a  wreck  of 
her.  Nothing  I  say  has  any  effect;  all  she  answers 
is,  '  It  isn't  worth  while.'  I  understand  her  per 
fectly,  but  I  hoped  to  buoy  her  up  with  some  of  her 
old  spirit  of  independence.  So  this  morning  I  asked 
her  if  she  intended  letting  herself  drift  on  in  this 
way.  I  may  have  spoken  a  little  more  harshly 
than  necessary,  for  my  words  broke  down  com 
pletely  the  wall  of  dogged  silence  she'd  built  around 
herself. 


96  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  '  Oh,  sir/  she  cried,  weeping  like  the  child  she 
is,  '  what  can  I  do  ?  Can  I  dare  to  take  little  chil 
dren  by  the  hand,  stained  as  I  am?  Can  I  go  as 
an  impostor  where,  if  people  knew,  they  would 
snatch  their  dear  ones  from  me?  Oh,  it  would  be 
too  wretched!/  I  tried  to  remonstrate  with  her, 
told  her  that  the  lily  trampled  in  the  dust  is  no  less 
a  lily  than  is  her  spotless  sister  held  high  above 
contamination.  She  looked  at  me  miserably  from 
her  tear-stained  face,  and  then  said,  '  Men  may  think 
so,  but  women  don't;  a  stain  with  them  is  inefface 
able  whether  made  by  one's  self  or  another.  No 
woman  knowing  my  story  would  think  me  free 
from  dishonor,  and  hold  out  her  clean  hands  to  me/ 

"  '  Plenty/  I  contradicted.  '  Maybe/  she  said 
humbly ; '  but  what  would  it  mean  ?  The  hand  would 
be  held  out  at  arm's  length  by  women  safe  in  their 
position,  who  would  never  fail  to  show  me  how  low 
they  think  me.  I'm  young  yet;  can  you  show 
me  a  girl,  like  myself  in  years,  but  white  as  snow, 
kept  safe  from  contamination,  as  you  say,  who, 
knowing  my  story,  would  hold  out  her  hand  to  me 
and  not  feel  herself  tainted  by  the  contact?  Don't 
say  you  can  —  I  know  you  can't/ 

"  She  was  crying  so  violently  that  she  wouldn't 
listen  to  me.  When  I  left  her,  I  myself  could  think 
of  none  of  my  young  friends  to  whom  I  could  put 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  97 

the  question.  I  know  many  sweet,  kind  girls,  but  I 
could  count  not  one  among  them  all  who,  in  such  a 
case,  would  be  brave  as  she  was  womanly  —  until  I 
thought  of  you." 

Complete  silence  followed  his  words.  He  did  not 
turn  his  glance  from  the  street  ahead  of  him.  He 
had  made  no  appeal,  would  make  none,  in  fact. 
He  had  told  the  story  with  scarcely  a  reflection  on 
its  tenor,  a  reflection  which  would  have  arrested 
another  man  from  introducing  such  an  element  into 
his  gentle  fellowship  with  a  girl  like  Ruth.  His 
lack  of  hesitancy  was  born  of  his  knowledge  of  the 
outcast's  blamelessness,  of  her  dire  necessity  for 
help,  and  of  a  premonition  that  Ruth  Levice  would 
be  as  free  from  conventional  surface  modesty  as 
was  he,  through  the  earnestness  of  the  undertaking. 

There  is  something  very  sweet  to  a  woman  in 
being  singled  out  by  a  man  for  some  exceptional 
courage.  Ruth  felt  this  so  strongly  that  she  could 
almost  hear  her  heart  beat  with  the  intoxicating 
knowledge.  No  question  had  been  asked,  but  she 
felt  an  answer  was  expected.  Yet,  had  her  life  de 
pended  on  it,  the  words  could  not  have  come  at  that 
moment.  Was  she  indeed  what  he  esteemed  her? 
Had  he  indeed  placed  her  on  this  pedestal?  Did 
she  deserve  the  high  place  he  had  given  her,  or  — 
would  she? 


98  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

With  many  women  the  question  would  have  been, 
did  she  care  for  Dr.  Kemp's  good  opinion?  Now, 
though  Ruth  was  indeed  put  upon  her  mettle,  her 
quick  sympathy  had  instantly  responded  to  the 
girl's  miserable  story.  Perhaps  the  spokesman  him 
self  influenced  her,  but  had  the  girl  stood  before  her 
at  the  moment,  she  would  have  seized  her  hand 
with  all  her  impulsive  warmth  of  understanding. 

As  they  turned  the  corner  of  the  block  where 
Ruth's  house  stood,  Kemp  said,  deliberately: 

"Well?" 

"  Thank  you.     Where  does  she  live?  " 

Her  quiet,  natural  tone  told  nothing  of  the  tumult 
of  sweet  emotions  within.  They  had  reached  the 
house,  and  the  doctor  opened  the  gate  before  he 
answered.  When  he  did,  after  they  had  passed 
through,  he  took  both  her  hands  in  his. 

"  I'll  take  you  there,"  he  said,  looking  down  at 
her  with  grave,  shining  eyes.  "  I  knew  you 
wouldn't  fail  me.  When  shall  I  call  for  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  call  for  me  at  all.  I  think  —  I  know  it 
will  be  better  for  me  to  walk  in  alone,  as  of  my  own 
accord." 

"  Ah,  yes !  "  he  said,  and  told  her  the  address. 
She  ran  lightly  up  the  steps,  and  as  he  turned  her 
key  in  the  door  for  her,  she  raised  a  pair  of  starry 
eyes  to  his. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  99 

"  Dr.  Kemp,"  she  said,  "  I've  had  an  exception 
ally  lovely  evening.  I  won't  soon  forget  it." 

"  Nor  I,"  he  returned,  raising  his  hat ;  holding  it 
in  his  hand,  he  gently  drew  her  gloved  hand  to  his 
lips. 

"  My  brave  young  friend !  "  he  said ;  and  the  next 
minute  his  quick  footfall  was  crunching  the  gravel 
of  the  walk.  Neither  of  them  had  remembered 
that  he  was  to  have  come  in  with  her.  She  waited 
till  the  gate  clicked  behind  him,  and  then  softly 
closed  the  heavy  door. 

"  My  brave  young  friend !  "  The  words  mounted 
like  wine  to  her  head.  She  forgot  her  surroundings 
and  stood  in  a  sweet  dream  in  the  hall,  slowly  un 
buttoning  her  gloves.  She  had  been  standing  in 
this  attitude  for  several  minutes,  when,  raising  her 
eyes,  still  shadowy  with  thought,  she  saw  her  cousin 
before  her  down  the  hall,  his  arm  resting  on  the 
newel-post. 

"  Louis !  "  she  cried  in  surprise,  and  without  con 
sidering,  she  hurried  to  him,  threw  her  arm  around 
his  neck,  and  kissed  him  on  the  cheek.  Arnold, 
taken  by  storm,  stepped  slightly  back. 

"  When  did  you  get  home?  "  she  asked.  The  pale 
rose-flush  mantling  her  cheeks  made  her  face 
exquisite. 

"  A  half-hour  ago." 


100  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

She  looked  at  him  quickly. 

"  Are  you  tired,  Louis?"  she  inquired  gently. 
"  You're  really  pale,  and  you  speak  as  though  you 
were  all  in." 

"Did  you  enjoy  the  play?"  he  asked  quietly, 
ignoring  her  remarks. 

"  The  play!  "  she  echoed,  and  then  a  quick  burn 
ing  blush  suffused  her  face.  The  epilogue  had 
wholly  obliterated  the  play  from  her  recollection. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  she  responded,  turning  from  the 
rather  sardonic  smile  of  his  lips  and  seating  herself 
on  the  stairs.  "  Do  you  want  to  hear  about  it 
now?" 

"Why  not?" 

"  Well,"  she  began,  laying  her  gloves  in  her  lap 
and  snuggling  her  chin  in  the  palms  of  her  hands, 
"  shall  I  tell  you  how  I  felt  about  it?  In  the  first 
place,  I  wasn't  ashamed  of  Shylock;  if  his  ven 
geance  was  distorted,  the  cause  distorted  it.  But, 
oh,  Louis,  the  misery  of  that  poor  old  man !  After 
all,  his  punishment  was  as  fiendish  as  his  guilt. 
Booth  was  great.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the 
play  of  his  wonderful  eyebrow  and  the  eloquence  of 
his  fine  hand.  Poor  old,  lonely  Shylock !  With  all 
his  intellect,  how  could  he  regret  that  wretched 
little  Jessica?  " 

"  He  was  a  Jewish  father." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEtNG  EQLAL  101 

"How  singularly  you  say  that!  Of  course  he 
was  a  Jew ;  but  Jewish  hardly  describes  him  —  at 
least,  according  to  the  modern  idea.  Are  you  com 
ing  up  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Go  on ;  I  will  lower  the  gas." 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  something  to  eat  or  drink  ? 
You  look  so  worn  out;  let  me  get  you  something." 

"Thanks;  I  have  dined.  Good-night."  The  girl 
passed  on  to  her  pretty  white-and-gold  room.  Shy- 
lock  had  again  fled  from  her  memory,  but  there 
was  singing  in  her  heart  a  man's  grave  voice  say 
ing: 

"  My  brave  young  friend !  " 


CHAPTER  X 

'*  A  HUMBLE  Bard  presents  his  respects  to  my 
2\.  Lady  Marechal  Niel,  and  begs  her  to  step 
down  to  the  gate  for  about  two  minutes." 

The  penciled  note  was  handed  to  Ruth  early  the 
next  morning  as  she  stood  in  the  kitchen  beating  up 
eggs  for  an  omelette  for  her  mother's  breakfast.  A 
smile  of  mingled  surprise  and  amusement  over 
spread  her  face  as  she  read,  and,  turning  the  card, 
she  saw,  "  Herbert  Kemp,  M.  D.,"  as  she  had  sur 
mised. 

"Do  I  look  all  right,  Mary?"  she  asked,  hur 
riedly  placing*  the  bowl  on  the  table  and  half  turn 
ing  to  the  cook  as  she  walked  to  the  door.  Mary 
deliberately  placed  both  hands  on  her  hips  and  eyed 
her  sharply. 

"  And  striped  flannel  dresses  and  hairs  in 
braids,"  she  began,  as  she  always  did,  as  if  continu 
ing  a  thought,  "  being  nice,  pretty  flannel  and  nice, 
pretty  braids,  Miss  Ruth  do  look  sweet-like,  which 
is  nothing  out  of  the  common,  for  she  always  do !  " 

The  last  was  almost  shouted  after  Ruth,  who  had 
run  from  her  prolixity. 

102 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  103 

As  she  hurried  down  the  walk,  she  recognized  the 
doctor's  carriage,  with  the  doctor  himself,  and  Bob 
in  state  beside  him.  Two  hands  went  up  to  two 
respective  hats  as  the  gate  swung  behind  her,  and 
she  came  with  hands  extended  to  Bob. 

'  You're  looking  so  much  better,"  she  exclaimed 
heartily,  holding  the  bashfully  outstretched  hand. 
"Isn't  this  your  first  outing?" 

"  Yes,  lady."  It  had  been  impossible  for  her  to 
make  him  call  her  by  name. 

"  He  elected  to  pay  his  first  devoirs  to  the  Queen 
of  Roses,  as  he  expressed  it,"  spoke  up  Kemp,  his 
disengaged  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder,  and  looking 
with  a  puzzled  expression  at  Ruth.  Last  night  she 
had  been  a  young  woman;  this  morning  she  was  a 
young  girl ;  it  was  only  after  he  had  driven  off  that 
he  discovered  the  difference  lay  in  the  arrangement 
of  her  hair. 

"  Thank  you,  Bob ;  presently  I  expect  to  have  you 
paying  me  a  visit  on  foot,  when  we  can  come  to  a 
clearer  understanding  about  my  flower-beds." 

"  He  says,"  returned  the  boy,  turning  a  humbly 
devoted  look  upon  Kemp,  "  that  I  mustn't  think  of 
gardening  for  some  weeks.  And  so  —  and  so  —  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  so,"  explained  the  doctor,  briskly,  "  he's 
going  to  hold  my  reins  on  our  rounds,  and  drink  in 


104  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

an  ocean  of  sunshine  to  expend  on  some  flowers  — 
yours  or  mine,  perhaps  —  by  and  by." 

Bob's  eyes  were  luminous  as  they  rested  on  the 
bearded  face  of  his  benefactor. 

"  Now  say  all  you  have  to  say,  and  we'll  be  off," 
said  Kemp,  tucking  in  the  robe  at  Bob's  side. 

"  I  didn't  have  anything  to  say,  sir ;  I  only  came 
to  let  her  know." 

"  And  I'm  so  glad,  Bob,"  said  Ruth,  smiling  up 
into  the  boy's  shy,  speaking  eyes.  And,  as  people 
always  will  try  to  add  to  the  comfort  of  a  conva 
lescent,  Ruth,  in  turn,  drew  the  robe  over  the  lad's 
hands.  As  she  did  so,  her  cousin,  Jennie  Lewis, 
passed  hurriedly  by.  Her  quick  blue  eyes  took  in, 
to  a  detail,  the  attitudes  of  the  trio. 

"  Good-morning,  Jennie,"  called  Ruth,  turning. 
"  Are  you  coming  in  ?  " 

"  Not  now."    She  bowed  stiffly  and  hurried  on. 

"  Cabbage-rose." 

Bob  delivered  himself  of  his  sentiment  without 
the  slightest  change  of  expression. 

The  doctor  gave  a  quick  look  at  Ruth.  She  met 
it  lightly. 

"  He  can't  help  his  inspirations,"  she  remarked, 
and  stepped  back  as  the  doctor  pulled  the  reins. 

"  Come  again,  Bob,"  she  called  and,  with  a  smile 
to  Kemp,  she  ran  in. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  105 

"  And  I  was  going  to  say,"  continued  Mary,  as 
she  re-entered  the  kitchen,  "  that  a  speck  of  aig 
splashed  on  your  cheek,  Miss  Ruth,  when  you  was 
making  the  omelette." 

"Oh,  Mary,  where?" 

"  But  not  knowin'  as  you  would  see  anybody,  I 
didn't  think  to  run  after  you;  so  it's  just  this  side 
your  mouth,  like  if  you  hadn't  wiped  it  good  after 
breakfast." 

Ruth  rubbed  it  off,  wondering  with  vexation  if 
the  doctor  had  noticed  it.  Truth  to  say,  the  doctor 
had  noticed  it,  and  placed  the  same  passing  con 
struction  on  it  that  Mary  had  suggested.  Not  that 
the  little  yellow  splash  occupied  much  of  his  atten 
tion.  When  he  drove  off,  all  he  thought  of  Ruth's 
appearance  was  that  her  braided  hair  hung  grace 
fully  and  heavily  down  her  back;  that  she  looked 
young  —  decidedly  young  and  missish ;  and  that  he 
had  probably  spoken  indiscreetly  and  impulsively 
to  the  wrong  person  on  a  wrong  subject  the  night 
before. 

An  hour  later,  and  Dr.  Kemp  could  not  have 
failed  to  recognize  Ruth,  the  woman  of  his  con 
fidence.  Something,  perhaps  a  dormant  spirit  of 
worldliness,  kept  her  from  disclosing  to  her  mother 
the  reason  of  her  going  out.  She  herself  felt  no 
shame  or  doubt  as  to  the  advisability  of  her  action ; 


106  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

but  the  certain  knowledge  of  her  mother's  disap 
proval  of  such  a  proceeding  restrained  the  disclosure 
which,  of  a  surety,  would  have  cost  her  the  non- 
fulfilment  of  a  kindly  act.  A  bit  of  subterfuge 
which  hurts  no  one  is  often  not  only  excusable,  but 
commendable,  and  in  this  instance,  it  saved  her 
mother  an  annoying  controversy.  So,  with  con 
science  fully  satisfied,  Ruth  took  her  way  down  the 
street.  The  question  as  to  whether  the  doctor  had 
gone  beyond  the  bounds  of  their  brief  acquaint 
ance  had,  of  course,  presented  itself  to  her  mind ;  but 
if  a  slight  flush  came  into  her  face  when  she  remem 
bered  the  nature  of  the  narrative  and  the  person 
ality  of  the  narrator,  it  was  quickly  banished  by 
the  precious  assurance  that  in  so  doing  he  had  hon 
ored  her  beyond  the  reach  of  current  flattery. 

A  certain  placid  strength  possessed  her  and 
showed  in  her  grave  brown  eyes;  with  her  whole 
heart  and  soul  she  wished  to  do  this  thing,  and  she 
longed  to  do  it  well.  Her  purpose  robbed  her  of 
every  trace  of  nervousness,  and  it  was  a  very  quiet, 
sweet-faced  young  woman  who  gently  knocked  at 
room  Number  10  on  the  second  floor  of  a  respecta 
ble  lodging-house  on  Polk  Street. 

Receiving  no  answer  to  her  knock,  she  repeated 
it  somewhat  more  loudly.  At  this  a  tired  voice 
called,  "  Come  in." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  107 

She  turned  the  knob,  which  yielded  to  her  touch, 
and  found  herself  in  a  small,  well-lighted,  and  neat 
room.  Seated  in  an  armchair  near  the  window,  but 
with  her  back  toward  it,  was  what  on  first  view  ap 
peared  to  be  a  golden-haired  child  in  black;  one 
elbow  rested  on  the  arm  of  the  chair,  and  a  childish 
hand  supported  the  flower-like  head.  As  Ruth  hesi 
tated  after  closing  the  door  behind  her,  she  found  a 
pair  of  listless  violet  eyes  regarding  her  from  a 
small  white  face. 

"  Well  ?  "  queried  the  girl,  without  changing  her 
position  except  to  allow  her  gaze  to  travel  to  the 
floor. 

"  Are  you  Miss  Rose  Delano?  "  asked  Ruth,  com 
ing  a  step  nearer. 

"What  of  that?''  admitted  the  girl,  lifelessly, 
her  dull  eyes  wandering  everywhere  but  to  the  face 
of  her  strange  interlocutor. 

"  I'm  Ruth  Levice,  a  friend  of  Dr.  Kemp's. 
Won't  that  introduction  be  enough  to  make  you 
shake  hands  with  me  ?  " 

She  advanced  toward  her,  holding  out  her  hand. 
A  burning  flame  shot  across  Rose  Delano's  face, 
and  she  shrank  farther  back  among  her  pillows. 

"  No,"  she  said,  putting  up  a  repellant  hand;  "  it 
isn't  enough.  Don't  touch  me,  or  you'll  regret  it. 
You  mustn't,  I  say."  She  arose  quickly  from  her 


108  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

chair  and  stood  at  bay,  regarding  Ruth.  The  lat 
ter,  taller  than  she  by  head  and  shoulders,  looked 
down  at  her  wistfully. 

"  I  know  no  reason  why  I  mustn't/'  she  replied 
gently. 

"  Then  you  don't  know  me." 

"  No;  but  I  know  of  you." 

"  Then  why  did  you  come;  why  don't  you  go?  " 
The  blue  eyes  looked  with  passionate  resentment  at 
her. 

"  Because  I've  come  to  see  you ;  because  I  want 
to  know  you." 

"Why?" 

"Why?" 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  know  me?  " 

"  Because  I  want  to  be  your  friend.  Mayn't  we 
be  friends?  I'm  not  much  older  than  you,  I 
think." 

"  You're  centuries  younger.  Who  sent  you  here  ? 
Dr.  Kemp?" 

"  No  one  sent  me;  I  came  of  my  own  free  will." 

"  Then  go  as  you  came." 

"  No." 

She  stood  gracefully  and  quietly  before  her.  Rose 
Delano  moved  farther  from  her,  as  if  to  escape  her 
grave  brown  eyes. 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  doing,"  cried  the 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  109 

girl,  excitedly ;  "  haven't  you  a  father  or  a  mother, 
no  one  to  tell  you  what  a  girl  shouldn't  do?  " 

"  I  have  both ;  but  I  have  also  a  friend  —  Dr. 
Kemp." 

"  He's  my  friend  too,"  affirmed  Rose,  proudly. 

"  Then  we've  one  good  thing  in  common ;  and 
since  he's  my  friend  and  yours,  why  shouldn't  we 
be  friends  ?  " 

"  Because  he's  a  man,  and  you're  a  woman,  and 
those  things  don't  count  with  men.  Then  he's  told 
you  my  story  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  feel  yourself  free  to  come  here  —  to 
such  a  creature  as  I  ?  " 

"  I  feel  nothing  but  pity  for  you ;  how  can  I 
blame  you?  But,  oh,  little  girl,  I  do  so  grieve  for 
you  because  you  won't  believe  that  the  world  isn't 
all  merciless.  Won't  you  give  me  your  hand  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  clasped  her  hands  behind 
her,  retreating  as  the  other  advanced.  "  Go  away, 
please.  You're  very  good,  but  you're  very  foolish. 
Besides  I  want  to  be  let  alone.  Please  go." 

"  Not  till  I've  held  your  hands  in  mine." 

"  Stop !  I  tell  you  I  don't  want  you  to  come 
here;  I  don't  want  your  friendship.  Can't  you  go 
now,  or  are  you  afraid  your  sweetheart  will  up 
braid  you  if  you  don't  carry  out  his  will  ?  " 


110  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  My  sweetheart?  "  she  asked  in  questioning  won 
der. 

"  Yes ;  only  a  lover  could  make  a  girl  like  you 
so  forget  herself.  I'm  speaking  of  Dr.  Kemp." 

"  But  he  isn't  my  lover,"  she  stated,  still  speak 
ing  gently,  but  with  a  pale  face  turned  to  her 
companion. 

"I  —  I  —  beg  your  pardon,"  faltered  the  girl, 
humbly  drooping  her  head,  shamed  by  the  cold 
pride  in  her  tormentor's  face.  "  But  why,  oh,  why, 
then,  won't  you  go  ?  "  she  continued,  wildly  sobbing. 
"  I  assure  you  it's  best." 

"  This  is  best,"  Ruth  said,  deliberately,  and  before 
Rose  knew  it  she  had  seized  her  two  hands,  and 
unclasping  them  from  behind  her,  drawn  them  to 
her  own  breast. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  holding  them  there  tightly, 
"  who's  the  stronger,  you  or  I  ? "  She  looked 
brightly  down  at  the  tear-stained  face  so  close  to 
hers. 

"  O  God !  "  breathed  the  girl,  her  storm-beaten 
eyes  held  by  the  spell  of  her  captor's  firmness. 

"  Now  we're  friends,"  said  Ruth.  "  Let's  sit 
down  and  talk." 

Still  holding  the  slender  hands,  she  drew  up  a 
chair,  and  seating  the  frail  girl  in  the  armchair, 
sat  down  beside  her. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  111 

"  Oh,  wait !  "  whispered  Rose.  "  Let  me  tell  you 
everything  before  you  make  me  hope  again." 

"  I  know  everything ;  and  truly,  Rose,  nothing 
you  can  say  could  make  me  budge  an  inch." 

"  How  wonderfully  he  must  have  told  you !  " 

"  He  told  me  nothing  but  the  truth.  I  know  you 
—  blameless  —  a  victim,  not  a  culprit.  And  now, 
tell  me,  do  you  feel  perfectly  strong?  " 

"  Oh,  yes."  The  little  hand  swept  in  agony  over 
the  sad,  childish  face. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  go  out  for  a  nice  walk.  You 
have  no  idea  how  pleasant  it  is  this  morning." 

"  I  can't,  indeed  I  can't!  and,  oh,  why  should  I?  " 

"  You  can  and  you  must,  because  you  must  get 
to  work  soon." 

Two  frightened  eyes  flew  up  to  hers,  beseeching. 

"Yes,"  Ruth  added,  patting  the  hand  she  held; 
"  you're  a  teacher,  aren't  you?  " 

"  I  was  —  "    The  catch  in  her  voice  was  audible. 

"  What  were  you  used  to  teaching?  " 

"  Spanish,  and  English  literature." 

"  Spanish  —  with  your  blue  eyes !  "  The  sudden 
outburst  of  surprise  sent  a  faint  April  beam  into 
the  other's  face. 

"  Si,  senorita" 

"  Then  you  must  teach  me.  Let  —  me  —  see. 
Wednesdays  —  Wednesday  afternoons,  yes?  " 


112  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Again  the  frightened  eyes  appealed  to  her;  but 
Ruth  ignored  them. 

"  And  so  many  of  my  friends  would  like  to  speak 
Spanish.  Will  you  teach  them  too  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Miss  Levice,  how  can  I  go  with  such  a 
past?" 

"  I'm  telling  you,"  said  Ruth,  proudly  rearing 
her  head,  "  if  I  present  you  as  my  friend,  you  are, 
you  must  be,  presentable." 

The  pale  lips  strove  to  answer  her. 

"  Tomorrow  I'll  come  with  a  number  of  names 
of  girls  who  are  '  dying/  as  they  say,  to  speak 
Spanish,  and  then  you  can  go  and  make  arrange 
ments  with  them.  Will  you?" 

Thus  pushed  to  the  wall,  Rose's  tear-filled  eyes 
were  her  only  answer. 

Ruth's  own  filled  in  turn. 

"  Dear  little  Rose,"  she  said,  her  usual  sweet 
voice  coming  back  to  her,  "  won't  it  be  lovely  to  do 
it?  You'll  feel  so  much  better  when  you  once  get 
out  and  are  earning  your  independent,  pleasant, 
living  again.  And  now,  will  you  forgive  me  for 
having  been  so  insistent?" 

"  Forgive  you !  "  A  red  spot  glowed  on  each 
pallid  cheek;  she  raised  her  eyes  and  said  with 
simple  fervor,  "  I  would  die  for  you." 

"  No,  but  you  may  live  for  me,"  laughed  Ruth, 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  113 

rising.  "  Will  you  promise  me  to  go  out  this  morn 
ing,  just  for  a  block  or  two?" 

"  I  promise  you." 

"  Well,  then,  good-bye."  She  held  out  her  hand 
meaningly  and  a  little  fluttering  one  was  placed  in 
hers.  Ruth  bent  and  kissed  the  wistful  little  face. 
The  girl  looked  up  in  adoration. 

"  I'll  see  you  tomorrow  surely,"  Ruth  called  back, 
turning  a  radiant  face  to  the  lonely  little  figure  in 
the  doorway.  She  felt  deliriously  happy  as  she 
ran  down  the  stairs;  her  eyes  shone  like  stars;  a 
buoyant  joy  fulness  spoke  in  her  step. 

"  It  is  so  easy  to  be  happy  when  one  has  every 
thing,"  she  mused,  forgetting  to  add,  "  and  gives 
much."  There  is  so  much  happiness  derived  from 
a  kind  action  that  were  it  not  for  the  motive,  charity 
might  be  called  supreme  selfishness. 

Down  noisy  Polk  Street,  with  its  clanging,  trans 
ferring  cable  cars,  its  cobbles  ringing  to  the  heavy 
hoofs  of  truck-horses,  its  markets  and  gay  bazaars, 
its  children  and  candy  shops,  Ruth  moved,  on  the 
wings  of  joyous  romance. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SHE  told  her  mother  in  a  few  words  at  luncheon 
that  she  had  arranged  to  take  Spanish  lessons 
from  a  young  protege  of  Dr.  Kemp's  who  had  been 
ill  and  was  in  want. 

"  And  I  was  thinking,"  she  added  with  na'ive 
policy,  "  that  I  might  combine  a  little  business  with 
pleasure  this  afternoon  —  pay  off  some  of  those 
ever-urgent  calls  you  accuse  me  of  outlawing,  and 
at  the  same  time  try  to  get  up  a  class  of  pupils  for 
Miss  Delano.  What  do  you  think?" 

"  That  would  be  nice ;  don't  forget  Mrs.  Bunker. 
I  know  you  don't  like  her,  but  you  must  pay  a  call 
for  the  musicale  which  we  didn't  attend;  and  she 
has  children  who  might  like  to  learn  Spanish.  I 
wonder  if  I  could  take  lessons  too;  it  wouldn't  be 
exciting,  and  I'm  not  too  old  to  learn." 

"  You  might  ask  the  doctor.  He's  almost  dis 
missed  himself  now,  and  after  we  get  back  from 
the  country  perhaps  Jennie  would  join  us  two  in  a 
class.  Mother  and  daughter  can  then  go  to  school 
together." 

114 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  115 

"  It's  very  fortunate,"  Mrs.  Levice  observed 
pensively,  sipping  her  necessary  glass  of  port,  "  that 
Celeste  sent  your  hat  this  morning  to  wear  with 
your  new  gown.  Isn't  it?  " 

"  Fortunate !  "  Ruth  exclaimed.     "  It's  destiny." 

So  Mrs.  Levice  slipped  easily  into  Ruth's  plan 
from  a  social  standpoint,  as  Ruth  slipped  out,  trim 
and  graceful,  from  her  mother's  artistic  surveillance. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Levice  intended  writing  some 
delayed  letters  till  her  husband's  return,  which 
promised  to  be  early  in  the  afternoon. 

She  had  just  about  settled  herself  at  her  desk 
when  Jennie  Lewis  came  bustling  in.  Mrs.  Lewis 
always  brought  in  a  sense  of  importance ;  one  looked 
upon  her  presence  with  that  exhilarating  feeling 
with  which  one  anticipates  the  latest  number  of 
a  society  journal. 

"  Go  right  on  with  your  writing,  Aunt  Esther," 
she  said  after  they  had  exchanged  greetings.  "  I've 
brought  my  work,  so  I  won't  mind  the  quiet  in  the 
least." 

"  As  if  I  would  bore  you  in  that  way!  "  returned 
Mrs.  Levice,  with  a  kind  glance  at  her,  as  she 
closed  her  desk.  "  Take  off  your  things,  and  let's 
have  an  old-fashioned,  comfortable  afternoon. 
Don't  forget  a  single  sensation;  I'm  actually  starv 
ing  for  one." 


116  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Mrs.  Lewis  smiled  grimly  as  she  fluffed  up  her 
bang  with  her  hat-pin.  She  drew  up  a  second  cosy 
rocking-chair  near  her  aunt's,  drew  out  her  needle 
and  crochet-work,  and  as  the  steel  hook  flashed  in 
and  out,  her  tongue  soon  acquired  its  accustomed 
momentum. 

"  Where's  Ruth  ?  "  she  began,  winding  her  thread 
round  her  chubby,  ring-bedecked  finger. 

"  She's  paying  off  some  calls  for  a  change." 
"  Indeed !    Got  down  to  conventionality  again  ?  " 
"  You  wouldn't  call  her  unconventional,  would 
you?" 

"  Oh,  well ;  everyone  has  a  right  to  an  opinion." 
Mrs.  Levice  glanced  at  her  inquiringly.  Without 
doubt  there  was  an  underground  mine  beneath  this 
non-committal  remark.  Mrs.  Lewis  rocked  violently 
backward  and  forward  without  raising  her  eyes. 
Her  face  was  beet-red,  and  it  looked  as  if  an  explo 
sion  were  imminent.  Mrs.  Levice  waited  with  no 
little  speculation  as  to  what  act  of  Ruth's  her  cousin 
could  disapprove  of  so  seriously.  She  liked  Jennie; 
everyone  who  knew  her  recognized  her  sterling  good 
heart,  but  almost  everyone  who  knew  her  agreed 
that  a  grain  of  flour  was  a  whole  cake,  baked  and 
iced,  to  Mrs.  Lewis's  imagination,  and  these  airy 
comfits  were  passed  around  promiscuously  to  who 
ever  was  at  hand.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  porten- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  117 

tous  silence  but  the  decided  snap  with  which  Mrs. 
Lewis  pulled  her  needle  through,  and  the  hurricane 
she  raised  with  her  rocking. 

"  I  was  at  the  theater  last  night." 

The  blow  drew  no  blood. 

"  Which  theater?  "  asked  Mrs.  Levice,  innocently. 

"  The  Baldwin.  Booth  played  The  Merchant  of 
Venice." 

"Did  you  enjoy  it?"  queried  her  aunt,  either 
evading  or  failing  to  perceive  the  meaning. 

"  I  did."    A  pause,  and  then,  "  Did  Ruth?  " 

Mrs.  Levice  saw  a  flash  of  daylight,  but  her 
answer  hinted  at  no  perturbation. 

"  Very  much.  Booth  is  her  actor-idol,  you 
know." 

"  So  I've  heard."  She  spread  her  crochet-work 
on  her  knee  as  if  measuring  its  length,  then  with 
striking  indifference  picked  it  up  again  and  adjusted 
her  needle. 

"  She  came  in  rather  late,  didn't  she?  " 

"Did  she?"  questioned  Mrs.  Levice,  parrying 
with  enjoyment  the  indirect  thrusts.  "  I  didn't 
know.  Had  the  curtain  risen  ?  " 

"  No ;  there  was  plenty  of  time  for  everyone  to 
recognize  her." 

"  I  had  no  idea  she  was  so  well  known." 

"  Those  who  didn't  know  her  knew  her  escort. 


118  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Dr.  Kemp  is  very  well  known,  and  his  presence  is 
naturally  remarked." 

"  Yes,  his  appearance  is  very  striking." 

"Aunt  Esther!"  The  vehemence  of  Mrs. 
Lewis's  feelings  sent  her  ball  of  cotton  rolling  to 
the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"My  dear,  what  is  it?"  Mrs.  Levice  turned  a 
pair  of  bright,  interested  eyes  upon  her  niece. 

"  You  know  very  well  what  I  want  to  say :  every 
body  wondered  to  see  Ruth  with  Dr.  Kemp." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  everyone  knows  that  she  never  goes 
out  with  anyone  but  Uncle  or  Louis,  and  we 
all  were  surprised.  The  Hoffmans  sat  behind  us, 
and  Miss  Hoffman  leaned  forward  to  ask  what  it 
meant.  I  met  several  acquaintances  this  morning 
who  had  been  there,  and  each  one  made  some  re 
mark  about  Ruth.  One  said,  '  I  had  no  idea  the 
Levices  were  so  intimate  with  Dr.  Kemp ; '  another 
young  girl  laughed  and  said,  '  Ruth  Levice  had  a 
new  escort  last  night,  didn't  she?'  Still  another 
asked,  *  Anything  on  the  tapis  in  your  family,  Mrs. 
Lewis?  '  And  what  could  I  say?" 

"What  did  you  say?" 

Mrs.  Levice's  quiet  tone  did  not  betray  her  vexa 
tion.  She  had  feared  just  such  a  little  disturbance 
from  the  Jewish  community,  but  her  husband's 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  119 

views  had  overruled  hers,  and  she  was  now  bound 
to  uphold  his.  Nevertheless,  she  hated  anything  of 
the  kind. 

"  I  simply  said  I  knew  nothing  at  all  about  it, 
except  that  he  was  your  physician.  Even  if  I  had 
known,  I  wouldn't  have  said  more." 

"  There's  no  more  to  be  said.  Dr.  Kemp  and 
Ruth  have  become  friendly  through  their  mutual 
interest  in  several  poor  patients;  and  in  the  course 
of  conversation  one  morning  he  heard  that  Ruth 
was  anxious  to  see  this  play,  and  had  no  escort.  So 
he  asked  her,  and  her  father  saw  no  objection  to 
her  going.  It's  a  pity  she  didn't  think  to  hand  round 
a  written  explanation  to  her  different  Jewish  friends 
in  the  audience." 

"  There  you  go,  Aunt  Esther !  Jewish  friends ! 
I'm  sure  that  no  matter  how  indifferent  Uncle  is  to 
such  things,  you  must  remember  that  our  Jewish 
girls  never  go  alone  to  the  theater  with  anyone 
outside  of  the  family,  and  certainly  not  with  a 
Christian." 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  it,  so  long  as  he  is  a 
gentleman  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  Only  I  didn't  think  you  cared  to 
have  Ruth's  name  coupled  with  one." 

"  No,  nor  with  anyone.  But  as  I  can't  control 
people's  tongues  —  " 


120  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

''  Then  I  wouldn't  give  them  cause  for  wagging. 
Aunt  Esther,  is  there  anything  between  Ruth  and 
Dr.  Kemp?" 

"  Jennie,  you  surprise  and  anger  me.  Do  you 
know  what  you  insinuate  ?  " 

"  I  can't  help  it.  Either  you  are  crazy,  or  ignorant 
of  what  is  going  on,  and  I  consider  it  my  duty  to 
enlighten  you  "  —  a  gossip's  duties  are  always  en 
lightening  — "  unless,  of  course,  you  prefer  to 
remain  in  blissful  or  wilful  ignorance." 

"  Speak  out,  please." 

"  Of  course  I  knew  you  must  have  sanctioned  her 
going  last  night,  though,  I  must  confess,  I  still  think 
you  did  very  wrong;  but  do  you  know  where  she 
went  this  morning?" 

Mrs.  Levice  was  exasperated.  She  was  enough 
of  a  Jewess  to  realize  that  if  you  dislike  Jewish 
comment,  you  must  never  step  out  of  the  narrowly 
conventional  Jewish  pathway.  That  Ruth,  her  only 
daughter,  should  be  the  subject  of  vulgar  bandying 
was  more  bitter  than  wormwood  to  her,  but  that  her 
own  niece  could  come  with  these  wild  conjectures 
incensed  her  beyond  endurance. 

"  I  do  know,"  she  said  in  response  to  the  fore 
going  question.  "  Ruth  is  not  a  sneak,  —  she  tells 
me  everything;  but  her  adventures  are  so  mild  that 
there  would  be  no  harm  if  she  left  them  untold. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  121 

She  called  on  a  poor  young  girl  who,  after  a  long 
illness,  is  looking  for  pupils  in  Spanish," 

"  A  friend  of  Dr.  Kemp's." 

"  Exactly." 

"  A  young  girl,  unmarried,  who,  a  few  weeks  ago, 
through  a  merciful  fate,  lost  her  child  at  its  birth." 

The  faint  flush  on  Mrs.  Levice's  cheek  receded. 

"  Who  told  you  this  ?  "  she  questioned  in  an  even, 
low  voice. 

"  I  thought  you  couldn't  know.  Mrs.  Blake,  the 
landlady  where  the  girl  lives,  told  me." 

"  And  how,  pray,  do  you  connect  Ruth  with  this 
girl?" 

"  I'll  tell  you.  Mrs.  Blake  does  my  white  sewing. 
I  was  there  this  morning,  and  just  as  I  went  into 
her  room,  I  saw  Ruth  leaving  another  farther  down 
the  hall.  Naturally  I  asked  Mrs.  Blake  who  had 
the  room,  and  she  told  me  the  story." 

"  Naturally."  The  cutting  sarcasm  drove  the 
blood  to  Mrs.  Lewis's  face. 

"  For  me  it  was;  and  in  this  case,"  she  retorted 
with  rising  accents,  "  my  vulgar  curiosity  had  its 
vulgar  reward.  I  heard  a  scandalous  account  of 
the  girl  whom  my  cousin  was  visiting,  and,  outside 
of  Dr.  Kemp,  Ruth  is  the  only  visitor  she  has  had." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  this,  Jennie." 

"  I  know  you  are,  Aunt  Esther.    But  what  I  find 


122  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

so  very  queer  is  that  Dr.  Kemp,  who  pretends  to  be 
her  friend  —  and  I've  seen  them  together  many 
times  —  should  have  sent  her  there.  Don't  you?" 

"  I  don't  understand  it  at  all  —  neither  Ruth  nor 
him." 

"  Surely  you  don't  think  Ruth  knew  anything  of 
this  ?  "  questioned  Mrs.  Lewis,  leaning  forward  and 
raising  her  voice  in  horror. 

"  Of  course  not,"  returned  Mrs.  Levice,  rather 
lamely.  She  had  long  ago  acknowledged  to  herself 
that  there  were  depths  in  her  daughter's  nature 
which  she  had  never  gauged. 

"  I  know  what  an  idol  his  patients  make  of  him, 
but  he's  a  man  nevertheless,  and  though  you  may 
think  it  horrible  of  me,  it  struck  me  as  very  sug 
gestive  that  he  was  that  girl's  only  friend." 

"  Therefore  he  must  have  been  a  good  friend." 

Mrs.  Lewis  bounded  from  her  chair  and  turned 
a  startled  face  to  Mr.  Levice,  who  had  thus  spoken, 
standing  in  the  doorway.  Mrs.  Levice  breathed  a 
sigh  of  hysterical  relief. 

"  Good-afternoon,  Jennie,"  he  said,  coming  into 
the  room  and  shaking  her  hand ;  "  sit  down  again. 
Good-afternoon,  Esther."  He  stooped  to  kiss  his 
wife. 

Mrs.  Lewis's  hands  trembled;  she  looked,  to  say 
the  least,  ashamed.  She  had  been  caught  scandal- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  123 

mongering  by  her  uncle,  Jules  Levice,  the  head  and 
pride  of  the  whole  family. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  heard  what  I  did,  Jennie;  sorry  to 
think  that  you  are  so  poor  as  to  lay  the  vilest  con 
struction  on  an  affair  of  which  you  evidently  know 
nothing,  and  sorry  you  couldn't  keep  your  views 
to  yourself."  It  was  the  habit  of  all  of  Levice's 
relatives  to  listen  in  silence  to  any  personal  repri 
mand  the  dignified  old  man  might  offer. 

"  I  heard  a  good  part  of  your  conversation,  and 
I  can  only  characterize  it  as  —  petty.  Can't  you 
and  your  friends  see  anything  without  springing  at 
shilling-shocker  conclusions?  Don't  you  know  that 
people  sometimes  enjoy  themselves  without  any 
further  design?  So  much  for  the  theater  talk. 
What  is  more  serious  is  the  fact  that  you  could  so 
misjudge  my  honorable  friend,  Dr.  Kemp.  Such  a 
thing,  Jennie,  my  girl,  would  be  as  remote  from 
Dr.  Kemp's  possibilities  as  —  murder.  Remember, 
what  I  say  is  indisputable.  Whether  Ruth  knew 
the  story  of  this  girl  or  not,  I  can't  say,  but,  either 
way,  I  feel  assured  that  what  she  did  was  well  done 
—  if  innocently;  if  with  knowledge,  so  much  the 
better.  And  I  venture  to  assert  that  she  is  not  a 
whit  harmed  by  the  action.  In  all  probability  she 
will  tell  us  all  the  particulars  if  we  ask  her.  Other 
wise,  Jennie,  don't  you  think  you  have  been  unneces- 


124  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

sarily  alarmed?"  The  benign  gentleness  of  his 
question  calmed  Mrs.  Lewis. 

"  Uncle,"  she  replied  earnestly,  "  in  my  life  such 
tilings  are  not  trivial;  perhaps  because  my  life  is 
narrower.  I  know  you  and  Ruth  take  a  different 
view  of  everything." 

"  Don't  disparage  yourself ;  people  generally  do 
that  to  be  contradicted  or  to  show  that  they  know 
their  weaknesses  and  have  never  cared  to  change 
them.  A  woman  of  your  intelligence  need  never 
sink  to  the  level  of  a  spiteful  chatterbox;  everyone 
should  keep  his  tongue  sheathed,  for  it  is  more 
deadly  than  a  sword.  Your  higher  interests  should 
make  you  overlook  every  little  action  of  your 
neighbors.  You  only  see  or  hear  what  takes  place 
when  the  window  is  open ;  you  can  never  judge  from 
that  what  takes  place  when  the  window  is  shut. 
How  are  the  children?" 

By  dint  of  great  tenderness  he  strove  to  make 
her  more  at  ease. 

Ruth,  confronted  with  their  knowledge,  con 
fessed,  with  flushed  cheeks  and  glowing  eyes,  the 
details  of  the  incident. 

"  And,"  she  said  in  conclusion,  "  father,  mamma, 
nothing  you  can  say  will  make  me  retract  anything 
I  have  done,  or  purpose  doing." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  125 

"  Nothing?"  repeated  her  father. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  ask  me  to,  but  that's  my 
decision." 

"  My  darling,  I  dislike  to  hear  you  call  yourself 
a  mule,"  said  her  father,  looking  at  her  with  some 
thing  softer  than  disapproval ;  "  but  in  this  case  I 
won't  use  the  whip  to  turn  you  from  your  purpose. 
Shall  we,  Esther?" 

"  It's  quixotic,"  affirmed  Mrs.  Levice,  "  but  since 
you've  gone  so  far,  there's  no  reasonable  way  of 
getting  out  of  it.  When  next  I  see  the  doctor  I 
shall  speak  to  him  of  it." 

"  There  will  be  no  occasion,  dear,"  remonstrated 
the  indulgent  father,  at  sight  of  the  annoyed  flash 
in  Ruth's  eyes.  "  I  shall." 

By  which  it  will  be  seen  that  the  course  of  an 
only  child  is  not  so  smooth  as  one  of  many  children 
may  think;  every  action  of  the  former  assumes  such 
prominence  that  it  is  examined  and  cross-examined, 
and  very  often  sent  to  Coventry;  whereas,  in  a 
large  family,  the  happy-go-lucky  offspring  has  his 
little  light  dimmed,  and  therefore  less  remarked, 
through  the  propincjuity  of  others. 

But  Mr.  Levice  failed  to  "  speak  to  "  Dr.  Kemp 
about  the  little  tempest  in  a  teapot.  Ruth,  trusting 
to  his  sensitive  understanding,  had  no  further  fears 
on  that  score. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IF  Ruth,  in  the  privacy  of  her  heart,  realized  that 
she  was  sailing  toward  dangerous  rapids,  the 
premonition  gave  her  no  unpleasant  fears.  Possibly 
she  was  reckless,  content  to  glide  forever  on  her 
smooth  stream  of  delight.  When  the  sun  blinds 
us  we  cannot  see  the  warning  black  lurking  in  the 
far  horizon.  Without  doubt  the  girl's  spirit  and 
sympathies  were  receiving  their  proper  food.  Life 
was  full  for  her,  not  because  she  was  occupied  —  a 
busy  life  does  not  always  prove  a  full  one  —  but 
because  she  was  beginning  to  enter  thoroughly  into 
the  lives  of  others,  to  struggle  with  their  struggles, 
to  triumph  in  their  triumphs,  and  so  she  was  begin 
ning  to  see  in  everything,  good  or  bad,  its  cause  for 
existence.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  one  can 
not  see  much  misery  without  experiencing  a  world 
of  disillusion  and  futile  rebellion  of  spirit,  but  Ruth 
was  not  living  just  at  that  time  under  ordinary 
circumstances. 

Something  of  the  nature  of  electricity  which  she 
could   not   fathom   seemed  to   envelop   her,   which 

126 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  127 

made  her  pulses  bound,  her  lips  quick  to  smile,  and 
her  eyes  shine  like  twin  dream-stars.  She  seemed 
to  be  moving  to  some  rapturous  music  unheard  save 
by  herself.  At  night,  alone  with  her  heart,  she 
dared  hardly  name  to  herself  the  meaning  of  it  all 
—  a  certain  puritanic  modesty  withheld  her.  Yet 
all  the  sweet  humility  of  which  she  was  possessed 
could  not  banish  from  her  memory  the  lingering 
clasp  of  a  hand,  the  warm  light  that  fell  from  eyes 
that  glanced  at  her.  For  the  present,  these  were 
grace  sufficient  for  her  daily  need.  Given  the 
perfume,  what  need  to  name  the  flower? 

Her  family,  without  understanding  it,  noted  the 
difference  in  their  different  ways.  Mrs.  Levice  saw 
with  a  thrill  of  delight  that  she  was  growing  more 
softly  beautiful.  Her  father,  holding  his  hands  a 
few  inches  from  her  shoulders,  said,  one  morning, 
with  a  drolly  puzzled  look,  "  I'm  afraid  to  touch 
you;  sparks  might  fly." 

Arnold  surprised  her  standing  in  the  gloaming 
by  a  window,  her  hands  clasped  over  her  head,  a 
smile  parting  her  lips,  her  eyes  haunting  in  the 
witchery  of  their  expression.  By  some  drawing 
power  her  glance  fell  unconsciously  upon  him,  and 
he  beheld,  with  mingled  amazement  and  specula 
tion,  a  rosy  hue  overspread  her  face  and  throat,  her 
hands  went  swiftly  to  her  face  as  if  she  would 


128  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

hide  something  it  might  reveal,  and  she  passed 
quickly  from  the  room.  Arnold  sat  down  to  solve 
this  problem  of  an  unknown  quantity. 

Ruth's  birthday  came  in  its  course,  a  few  days 
after  her  meeting  with  Rose  Delano.  The  family 
celebrated  it  in  their  usual  fashion,  which  consisted 
only  in  making  the  day  pass  pleasantly  for  the  one 
whose  day  of  days  it  was  —  their  simple  way  of 
showing  that  her  birth  had  been  a  happy  one  for 
all  concerned. 

On  this  evening  of  her  twenty-second  anniver 
sary,  Ruth  seemed  to  be  in  her  element.  She  had 
donned,  in  a  spirit  of  mischief,  a  gown  she  had 
worn  five  years  before  on  the  occasion  of  some 
youthful  festivity.  The  girlish  fashion  of  the  white 
frock,  with  its  straight,  full  skirt  to  her  ankles,  the 
round  baby  waist,  and  short  puffs  on  her  shoulders 
made  a  very  child  of  her. 

"  Who  can  imagine  me  seventeen  ?  "  she  asked 
gayly  as  she  entered  the  library,  softly  lighted  by 
many  wax  candles.  Her  mother,  who  was  again 
enjoying  the  freedom  of  the  house,  and  who  was 
now  snugly  ensconced  in  her  own  particular  chair, 
looked  up  at  her. 

"  That  little  frock  makes  me  long  to  take  you  in 
my  lap,"  said  she,  brightly. 

"  One  —  two  —  three  —  and  here  I  am !  "    Ruth 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  129 

threw  herself  into  her  mother's  arms  and  twined 
her  arms  about  her  neck. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Arnold,  you  can't  scare  me  tonight 
with  your  sarcastic  disapproval ! "  she  invited, 
glancing  over  at  her  cousin  seated  in  a  deep,  blue- 
cushioned  chair. 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  scare  you,  little  cousin,"  he 
answered  pleasantly.  "  I  only  do  that  to  children 
or  grown-up  people." 

"  And  what  am  I,  pray,  good  sir  ?  " 

"  You  are  neither ;  you  are  neither  child  nor 
wroman;  you  are  neither  flesh  nor  spirit;  you  are 
unknowable." 

"  Dear  me !  In  other  words,  I'm  a  conundrum. 
Who  will  guess  me  ?  " 

"  You  are  the  Sphinx,"  added  her  cousin. 

"  I  won't  be  that  ugly-faced  thing,"  she  retorted ; 
"  guess  again." 

"  Impossible.  Once  acquire  a  sphinx's  elusive- 
ness,  and  you  are  a  mystery  perpetual.  You  alone 
can  unriddle  the  riddle." 

"  I  can't.     I  give  myself  up." 

"  Not  so  fast,  young  woman,"  broke  in  her 
father,  shutting  his  magazine  and  settling  his  glasses 
more  firmly  upon  his  nose,  "  that's  an  office  I  alone 
can  perform.  Who  has  been  hunting  on  my  pre 
serves  ?  " 


130  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Alas !  They're  not  tempting,  so  be  quite  calm 
on  that  score."  She  sat  up  with  a  forlorn  sigh, 
adding,  "  Think  of  it,  father,  twenty-two,  and  not 
a  heart  to  hang  on  my  belt." 

"  Hands  are  supposed  to  mean  hearts  nowadays." 
said  Louis,  reassuringly.  "  I  am  sure  you  have 
mittened  one  or  two." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  laughing  evasively, 
"  both  of  little  Toddie  Flynn's.  Mamma,  don't  you 
think  I'm  too  big  a  baby  for  you  to  hold  so  long?  " 
She  sprang  up,  and  drawing  a  stool  before  her 
father's  chair,  exclaimed  restlessly  — 

"  Now,  father,  a  grown-up  Mother-Goose  story 
for  my  birthday;  make  it  short  and  sweet  and  with 
a  moral  —  like  you." 

Mr.  Levice  patted  her  head  and  rumpled  the 
loosely  gathered  hair. 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  he  began,  "  a  little  boy  went 
into  his  father's  warehouse  and  ate  up  all  the  sugar 
in  the  land.  He  did  not  die,  but  he  was  so  sweet 
that  everybody  wanted  to  bite  him.  That  is  short 
and  sweet;  and  what  is  the  moral?  " 

"  Selfishness  brings  misery,"  answered  Ruth, 
promptly.  "  Clever  of  both  of  us,  but  what's  the 
analogy?  Louis,  you  look  lonesome  over  there.  I 
feel  as  if  I  were  play-acting  and  can't  get  near  you. 
Come  nearer  the  footlights." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  131 

"  And  get  scorched  for  my  pains  ?  Thanks ;  this 
is  very  comfortable.  Distance  adds  to  illusion." 

"  Thanks.  But  you  don't  mean  to  admit  you 
have  any  illusions,  do  you?  Why,  those  glasses  of 
yours  could  see  through  a  diplomat,  I  truly  believe. 
Did  you  ever  see  anything  you  didn't  consider  a 
delusion  and  a  snare  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  there's  a  standing  institution  the  honest 
value  of  which  there  is  no  doubt." 

"And  that  is?" 

"  My  bed." 

"  There's  inspiration  for  you!  But  after  all,  it's 
a  lying  institution,  my  friend ;  and  aren't  you  depos 
ing  your  masculine  muse  —  your  cigar  ?  Oh,  that 
reminds  me  of  the  annual  peace-pipe." 

She  jumped  up,  snatched  a  candle,  and  left  the 
room.  As  she  turned  toward  the  staircase  she  was 
arrested  by  the  ringing  of  the  doorbell.  She  stood 
quite  still,  holding  the  lighted  candle  while  the  maid 
opened  the  door. 

"  Is  Miss  Levice  in?  "  asked  the  voice  which  made 
the  little  candle-light  seem  like  myriads  of  swim 
ming  stars.  As  the  maid  answered  in  the  affirma 
tive,  she  came  mechanically  forward  and  met  the 
bright-glancing  eyes  of  Dr.  Kemp. 

"  Good-evening,"  she  said,  and  held  out  her  dis 
engaged  hand,  which  he  grasped  and  held  close. 


132  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Is  it  Santa  Filomena?"  he  asked,  smiling  into 
her  eyes. 

"  No,  only  Ruth  Levice,  who  is  delighted  to  see 
you.  Will  you  come  into  the  library?  We  are 
having  a  little  home  evening  together." 

"  Thank  you.  Directly."  He  slipped  out  of  his 
overcoat,  and  turning  quietly  to  her,  said,  "  But 
before  we  go  in,  and  I  enact  the  odd  number,  I 
should  like  to  say  just  a  few  words  to  you  alone, 
please." 

She  gave  him  a  quick  look  of  inquiry,  and  meet 
ing  his  compelling  eyes,  led  him  across  the  hall  into 
the  drawing-room.  He  noticed  how  the  soft  light 
she  held  made  her  the  only  white  spot  in  the  dark 
room,  till,  touching  a  tall  silver  lamp,  she  threw  a 
rosy  halo  over  everything.  That  it  was  an  exquisite, 
graceful  apartment  he  felt  without  seeing 

She  placed  her  candle  upon  a  tiny  rococo  table, 
and  seated  herself  in  a  quaint  chair  with  high, 
carved  ebony  back  and  arms  in  which  she  seemed 
to  sit  enthroned.  The  doctor  declined  to  sit.  He 
stood  with  one  hand  upon  the  fragile  table  and 
looked  down  at  her. 

"  I'm  inclined  to  think,  after  all,"  he  said  slowly, 
"  that  you  are,  in  truth,  the  divine  lady  with  the 
light.  It's  a  pretty  name  and  a  pretty  fame  —  that 
of  Santa  Filomena." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  133 

What  had  come  over  her  eyelids  that  they  refused 
to  be  raised  ? 

"  I  think,"  he  continued  with  a  low  laugh,  "  that 
I  shall  always  call  you  so,  and  have  all  rights 
reserved.  May  I  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid,"  she  faltered,  finally  looking  up, 
"  that  your  poem  would  be  without  rhyme  or  reason 
—  a  candle  is  too  slight  a  thing  for  such  beautiful 
flattery." 

"  But  not  a  Rose  Delano.  I  saw  her  today,  and 
at  least  one  sufferer  would  turn  to  kiss  your  shadow. 
Do  you  know  what  a  wonderfully  beautiful  thing 
you've  done?  I  came  tonight  to  thank  you" — any 
one  who  makes  good  our  ideals  is  a  subject  for 
thanks.  Of  course,  the  thing  had  no  personal  bear 
ing  upon  myself;  but  being  an  officious  fellow,  I 
thought  it  proper  to  let  you  know  that  I  know. 
That's  my  only  excuse  for  coming." 

"  Did  you  need  an  excuse?  " 

"  That,  or  an  invitation." 

"  Oh,  I  never  thought  of  you  —  as  —  as  —  " 

"As  a  man?" 

How  to  answer  this  ?    Then,  finally,  she  said : 

"  As  caring  to  waste  an  evening." 

"  Would  it  be  a  waste  ?  There's  an  old  adage 
that  one  might  adapt,  then,  '  A  wilful  waste  makes 
woful  want/  Want's  a  miserable  thing,  so  I 


134  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

thought  a  little  plunging  wouldn't  be  a  half -bad  idea. 
Shall  we  go  in  to  your  family  now?  Won't  they 
think  you've  been  spirited  away  ?  " 

He  took  the  candle  from  her,  and  they  retraced 
their  steps.  As  she  turned  the  handle  of  the  door, 
she  said: 

"  Will  you  give  me  the  candle,  please,  and  go  in  ? 
I'm  going  upstairs." 

"Aren't  you  coming  down  again?"  He  stood 
stolidly  still. 

"  Oh,  yes.  Father,  mother,"  she  called,  opening 
wide  the  door,  "  here  is  Dr.  Kemp." 

With  this  announcement  she  fled  up  the  staircase. 

She  had  come  up  for  some  cigars;  but  when  she 
reached  her  father's  room  she  seated  herself  blindly, 
looking  aimlessly  down  at  her  hands.  What  a 
blessed  reprieve  this  was!  If  she  could  but  stay 
here !  She  could,  if  it  were  not  for  the  peace-pipe. 
Such  a  silly  performance  that!  Father  kept  those 
superfine  cigars  over  in  the  cabinet  there.  Should 
she  bring  them?  Should  she  bring  only  two,  as 
usual?  Then  she  was  going?  Of  course.  Only  a 
minute  to  quiet  down  in!  She  wondered  what 
they  were  talking  about.  She  supposed  she  looked 
very  foolish  in  that  gown  with  her  hair  all  mussed ! 
How  his  eyes  —  She  rose  suddenly  and  walked  to 
the  dressing-table  with  her  light.  After  all,  it  was 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  135 

not  very  unbecoming.  Had  her  face  been  so  white 
all  the  evening?  Louis  liked  her  face  to  be  color 
less.  Oh,  she  had  better  hurry  down. 

"  Here  comes  the  chief !  "  greeted  her  mother  as 
she  entered.  "  Now,  doctor,  you  can  see  the  native 
celebrating  her  natal  day.'' 

"  She  enacts  the  enchantress,"  said  her  father, 
"  and  sends  us,  living,  to  the  happy  hunting- 
grounds.  Will  you  join  us,  doctor?  " 

"If  Circe  thinks  me  worthy.  Is  the  metamor 
phosis  as'  happy  as  it  promises  ?  " 

He  received  no  answer  as  Ruth  came  forward 
with  a  box  of  tempting  Havanas.  She  selected  one, 
and  placing  the  box  on  a  chair,  reached  to  the  high- 
tiled  mantel-shelf,  and  taking  a  tiny  pair  of  scissors 
from  the  tray,  deftly  cut  off  the  point  of  the  cigar. 
She  seemed  quite  unconscious  that  all  were  watch 
ing  her.  Louis  handed  her  a  lighted  match,  and 
putting  the  cigar  between  her  lips,  she  lit  it  into  life. 
The  doctor  was  amused. 

She  blew  up  a  wreath  of  the  fragrant  smoke  and 
handing  it  to  her  father,  said : 

"  With  this  year's  love,  father." 

The  doctor  grew  interested. 

She  took  another,  and  lighting  it  as  gracefully, 
and  without  the  slightest  suggestion  of  haste,  gave 
it  into  Louis's  outstretched  hand. 


136  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"Well?"  he  prompted,  holding  it  from  his  lips 
till  she  had  spoken. 

"  I  can  think  of  nothing  you  care  enough  for  to 
wish  you." 

"Nothing?" 

"  Unless,"  she  recalled  with  sudden  mischief,  "  I 
wish  you  a  comfortable  bed  all  the  year  round  — 
and  pleasant  dreams,  Louis." 

"  That  is  much,"  he  answered  dryly  as  he  drew  a 
cloud  of  smoke. 

The  doctor  became  anticipative. 

Ruth's  embarrassment  was  evident  as  she  turned 
and  offered  him  a  cigar. 

"  Do  you  smoke  ?  "  she  asked,  holding  out  the 
box. 

"  Like  a  chimney,"  he  replied,  looking  at  her,  but 
taking  none,  "  and  in  the  same  manner  as  other 
common  mortals." 

She  stood  still,  but  withdrew  her  hand  a  little  as 
if  repelling  the  hint  his  words  conveyed.  Where 
upon  he  immediately  selected  a  cigar,  saying  as  he 
did  so,  "  So  you  were  born  in  summer  —  the  time 
of  all  good  things.  Well,  '  Thy  dearest  wish,  wish 
I  thee/  and  may  it  not  pass  in  the  smoking !  " 

She  swept  him  a  playful  courtesy. 

After  this,  Ruth  sat  a  somewhat  silent  listener  to 
the  conversation.  She  knew  that  they  were  dis- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  137 

cussing  the  pros  and  cons  of  the  advantages,  for  a 
bachelor,  of  club  life  over  home  life.  She  knew 
that  Louis  was  making  some  habitual,  cynical  re 
marks  —  asserting  that  the  apparent  privacy  of  the 
latter  was  delusive,  and  that  the  reputed  publicity 
of  the  former  was  deceptive,  as  it  was  even  more 
isolated  than  the  latter.  All  of  which  the  doctor 
laughed  down  as  untruly  epigrammatic. 

"  Then  there's  only  one  loophole  for  the  poor 
bachelor,"  Mrs.  Levice  summed  up,  "  and  that  is 
to  marry.  Louis  complains  of  the  club,  and  thinks 
himself  a  sort  of  cynosure  in  a  large  household. 
And  you,  doctor,  complain  of  the  want  of  homeli 
ness  in  a  bachelor  establishment.  It's  evident  you 
need  a  wife." 

"  And  oust  my  Pooh-ba !  You  can't  imagine 
what  a  treasure  that  old  soldier  of  mine  is.  If  I  call 
him  a  veritable  Martha,  I'm  only  paying  him  a 
doubtful  compliment  for  the  neatness  with  which 
he  keeps  my  house  and  linen;  he  entertains  my 
palate  as  deliciously  as  a  Recamier  her  salon,  and 
—  he's  never  in  my  way  —  or  thoughts.  Can  you 
recommend  me  any  woman  so  self-abnegatory?  " 

"  Many  women,  but  no  wife,  I'm  glad  to  say. 
But  you  need  one." 

"  So !  That  sounds  cryptic,  but  maybe  an  ex 
planation  —  " 


138  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Oh,  not  to  me,  but  —  " 

"  You  mean  you  consider  a  wife  an  adjunct  to  a 
doctor's  certificate." 

"  It's  a  great  guarantee  with  women,"  put  in 
Louis,  "  as  a  voucher  against  impatience  with  their 
own  foibles.  They  think  only  home  practice  can 
secure  the  adequate  tolerance.  Is  that  it,  Aunt 
Esther?" 

"  Nonsense,  Louis ! "  interrupted  Mr.  Levice. 
"  What  has  that  to  do  with  a  man's  skill  ?  " 

"  Skill  is  one  thing;  the  manner  of  doctor  is 
another  —  with  women." 

"  That's  worth  considering  —  or  adding  to  the 
requirements,"  observed  Kemp,  turning  his  steady, 
quiet  gaze  upon  Arnold. 

Ruth  noticed  that  the  two  men  had  taken  the 
same  position  —  vis-a-vis  to  each  other  in  their 
respective  easy-chairs,  their  heads  thrown  back 
upon  the  cushions,  their  arms  resting  on  the  chair- 
arms.  Something  in  Louis's  veiled  eyes  caused  her 
to  interpose. 

"  Will  you  play,  Louis  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Not  tonight,  ma  consine"  he  replied  pleasantly, 
glancing  at  her  from  lowered  lids. 

"  It's  not  optional  with  you  tonight,  Louis,"  she 
insisted  lightly,  rising  as  she  spoke,  "  we  —  desire 
you  to  play." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  139 

"Or  be  punished  for  Use  majeste?  Has  your 
Majesty  any  other  command?  " 

"  No.     I'll  even  turn  the  leaves  for  you." 

"The  leaves  of  what  —  memory?  You  know  I 
don't  need  that." 

He  strolled  over  to  the  piano  and  sat  down.  He 
struck  a  few  random  chords,  some  soft,  some  florid, 
some  harsh,  some  melting ;  he  strung  them  together 
and  glided  into  a  dreamy,  melodious  rhythm,  which 
faded  into  a  birdlike  hallelujah  —  swelling  now  into 
grandeur,  fainting  into  sobs,  rushing  into  an  allegro 
so  brilliantly  bewildering  that  when  the  closing, 
crashing  chords  came  like  the  pealing  tones  of  a 
great  organ,  Ruth  drew  a  long  sigh  with  the  last 
lingering  vibrations. 

"  What  is  that?  "  asked  Levice,  looking  curiously 
at  his  nephew,  who,  turning  about  on  his  music- 
stool,  took  up  his  cigar  again. 

"  That,"  he  replied,  flecking  an  ash  from  his  coat 
lapel,  "  has  no  name  that  I  know  of ;  merely 
vagaries  which  some  poetic  people  call  '  Soul.' ' 

A  pained  denial  shot  through  Ruth  at  his  careless 
words  —  he  had  plainly  been  improvising,  and  she 
knew  he  must  have  felt  the  turmoil  he  had  evoked. 

"  Here,  Ruth,  sing  this,"  he  continued,  turning 
round  and  picking  up  a  sheet  of  music. 

"  What?  "  she  asked  without  moving. 


140  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"'The  Bugle;'  I  like  it." 

Kemp  looked  at  her  expectantly.  He  said,  in  a 
low  voice,  he  had  not  known  she  sang;  but  since 
she  did,  he  was  sure  her  voice  was  contralto. 

"Why?"  she  asked. 

"  Because  your  face  is  contralto." 

She  turned  from  his  eyes  and  voice  as  if  they 
hurt  her,  and  moved  to  Louis's  side. 

It  could  hardly  be  called  singing.  Louis  had 
often  said  her  voice  needed  merely  to  be  set  to 
rhythmic  time  to  be  music;  in  pursuance  of  which 
idea  he  had  often  put  into  her  hand  some  poem 
which  touched  his  fancy,  told  her  to  read  it,  and 
as  she  read,  he  would  adapt  to  it  an  accompaniment 
according  to  the  meaning  and  measure  of  the  lines 
—  grandly  solemn,  daintily  tripping,  wildly  inspir 
iting,  as  the  spirit  of  the  lines  chanced  to  be.  It  was 
more  a  chant  than  a  song.  Tonight  he  chose  Ten 
nyson's  Bugle-song.  Her  voice  was  subservient  to 
the  accompaniment  shaking  its  faint,  sweet  bugle- 
notes,  at  first,  as  in  a  rosy  splendor;  it  rose  and 
swelled  and  echoed  and  reverberated  and  died  away 
slowly  as  if  loath  to  depart.  Arnold's  playing  was 
the  poem,  Ruth's  voice  the  music  the  poet  might 
have  heard  as  he  wrote,  sweet  as  a  violin,  deep  as  the 
feeling  evolved  —  for  when  she  came  to  the  lines 
beginning,  "  Oh,  love,  they  die  in  yon  rich  sky," 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  141 

she  might  have  stood  alone  with  one,  in  some  high, 
clear  place,  so  mellow  was  the  lingering  thrill  of 
her  voice,  so  rapt  the  expression  of  her  face.  Kemp 
looked  as  if  he  would  not  tire  if  the  sound  should 
"  grow  forever  and  forever." 

Mrs.  Levice  was  wakeful  after  she  had  gone  to 
bed.  Her  husband  also  seemed  inclined  to  prolong 
the  night,  for  he  made  no  move  to  undress. 

"  Jules,"  said  she  in  low-voiced  confidence,  "  do 
you  realize  that  our  daughter  is  twenty-two  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  half -smile. 

"  Isn't  this  her  birthday?" 

"  Her  twenty-second.  And  she  is  still  unmar 
ried." 

"Well?" 

"  It's  time  she  were.    I  should  like  to  see  it." 

"  So  should  I,"  he  acquiesced  with  peculiar 
decision. 

Mrs.  Levice  straightened  herself  up  in  bed  and 
looked  at  her  husband  eagerly. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  we  have 
both  thought  of  the  same  possibility?" 

It  was  now  Mr.  Levice's  turn  to  start  into  an 
interested  position. 

"  Of  whom,"  he  asked  with  some  constraint,  "  are 
you  speaking?  " 


142  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Sh  —  sh !  Come  here.  I  have  longed  for  it 
for  so  long,  but  have  never  breathed  it  to  a  soul  — 
Louis." 

Levice  had  become  quite  pale.  As  she  pronounced 
the  familiar  name,  the  color  returned  to  his  cheek, 
and  a  surprised  look  sprang  to  his  eyes. 

"  Louis ?    Why  do  you  think  of  such  a  thing?  " 

"  It  is  a  most  logical  thought.  I  think  them  par 
ticularly  well  suited.  Ruth,  pardon  me,  dear,  has 
gotten  hold  of  some  very  peculiar  and  idealistic 
notions.  No  merely  commonplace  young  man 
would  make  her  happy.  A  man  must  have  some 
ideas  outside  of  what  his  daily  life  brings  him,  if 
she  is  to  spend  a  moment's  interested  thought  on 
him.  She  has  repelled  some  of  the  most  eligible 
advances  for  no  obvious  reasons  whatever.  Now, 
she  doesn't  care  a  rap  for  society,  and  goes  only 
because  I  exact  it.  That's  no  condition  for  a  nor 
mal  girl  to  allow  herself  to  sink  into;  she  owes  a 
duty  to  her  future.  I'm  telling  you  this  because,  of 
course,  you  see  nothing  dangerous  in  such  a  course. 
But  it's  time  you  were  roused;  you  know  one  look 
from  you  is  worth  a  whole  sermon  from  me.  Do 
you  want  her  to  be  an  old  maid?  As  to  my  think 
ing  of  Louis,  well,  in  running  over  my  list  of 
eligibles,  I  find  he  fulfills  every  condition  —  good- 
looking,  clever,  cultivated,  well-to-do,  and  —  of 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  143 

course,  of  good  family!  Why  shouldn't  it  be?  They 
like  each  other,  and  see  enough  of  each  other  to 
learn  to  love.  We,  however,  must  help  to  bring  it 
to  a  head." 

"  First  provide  the  hearts,  little  woman.  What 
can  I  do  —  ask  Louis  or  Ruth?" 

"  Jules,"  she  returned  with  vexation,  "  how  child 
ish!  Don't  you  feel  well?  Your  cheeks  are  so 
flushed." 

"  I  am  a  bit  warm.  I'm  going  in  to  kiss  the  child 
good-night.  She  ran  off  while  I  saw  Dr.  Kemp 
out." 

Ruth  sat  in  her  white  dressing-gown,  her  heavy 
dark  hair  about  her,  her  brush  idle  in  her  hand. 
Her  father  stood  silently  in  the  doorway,  regarding 
her,  a  great  dread  tugging  at  his  heart.  Jules  Levice 
was  a  keen  reader  of  the  human  face,  and  he  had 
caught  a  faint  glimpse  of  something  in  the  doctor's 
eyes  while  Ruth  sang.  He  knew  the  look  had  been 
harmless,  for  her  back  had  been  turned,  but  he 
wished  to  reassure  himself  against  a  nameless 
dread. 

"  Not  in  bed  yet,  my  child?  " 

She  started  up  in  confusion  as  he  came  in. 

"Of  what  were  you  thinking,  darling?"  He 
put  his  hand  under  her  soft  white  chin  and  looked 
deep  into  her  eyes. 


144  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Well,"  she  answered  almost  instantly,  "  I 
wasn't  thinking  of  anything  important  —  I  was 
thinking  of  you!  We're  going  to  Beacham's  next 
week  —  and  have  you  any  soft  silk  shirts  ?  " 

He  laughed  an  almost  relieved  laugh. 

"Well,  no,"  he  answered;  "I  leave  all  such 
fancies  to  your  care.  So  we  go  next  week.  I  am 
glad.  And  you  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  love  the  country  in  its  summer  dress, 
you  know." 

"Yes.  Well,  good-night,  love."  He  took  her 
face  between  his  hands,  and  drawing  it  down  to 
his,  kissed  it.  Still  holding  her,  he  suddenly  invoked 
with  swreet  solemnity,  the  age-old  blessing : 

"  *  The  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee. 

"  '  The  Lord  make  his  face  to  shine  upon  thee, 
and  be  gracious  unto  thee. 

"  '  The  Lord  lift  up  his  countenance  upon  thee, 
and  give  thee  peace.' ' 

He  released  her  slowly.  Ruth  stood  where  he 
left  her,  with  lowered  head. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IT  was  August.  The  Levices  had  purposely  post 
poned  leaving  town  until  the  gay,  merry-making 
crowds  had  disappeared,  when  Mrs.  Levice,  in  the 
quiet  of  autumn,  could  put  a  crown  to  her  recovery. 

Ruth  had  a  busy  time  getting  all  three  ready,  as 
she  was  to  continue  the  management  of  the  house 
hold  affairs  until  their  return,  a  month  later. 
Besides  which,  numerous  little  private  incidentals 
had  to  be  put  in  running  order  for  a  month,  and 
she  realized,  with  a  pang  at  parting  with  some  of  her 
simple,  sincere  proteges,  that,  were  this  part  of  her 
life  withdrawn,  the  rest  would  pall  insufferably. 

The  evening  before  their  departure  she  stood 
bareheaded  upon  the  steps  of  the  veranda  with 
Louis,  who  was  enjoying  his  after-dinner  smoke. 
Her  father  and  mother,  in  the  soft  golden  gloaming 
of  late  summer,  were  strolling  arm-in-arm  among 
the  flower-beds.  Mrs.  Levice,  without  obviously 
looking  toward  them,  felt  with  satisfaction  that 
Ruth  was  looking  well  in  a  plain  black  gown  which 
she  had  had  no  time  to  change  after  her  late  shop- 

145 


146  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

ping.  She  did  not  know  that,  close  and  isolated  as 
the  young  man  and  woman  stood,  not  only  were 
they  silent,  but  each  appeared  oblivious  of  the 
other's  presence. 

Ruth,  with  her  hands  clasped  behind  her,  and 
Arnold,  blowing  wreaths  of  blue  smoke  into  the 
heliotrope-scented  air,  looked  as  if  under  a  dream- 
spell. 

As  Mrs.  Levice  passed  within  earshot,  Ruth 
heard  snatches  of  the  broken  sentence  — 

"  Jennie  —  good-bye  —  today  —  she'd  have  been 
so  —  " 

This  roused  her  from  her  revery,  and  she  called 
to  her  mother: 

"  Why,  I  forgot  to  drop  in  at  Jennie's  this  after 
noon,  as  I  promised." 

"  How  annoying !  when  you  know  how  sensitive 
she  is  and  how  angry  she  gets  over  any  neglect." 

"  I  can  run  out  there  now.    It's  light  enough." 

"  But  it  will  be  dark  in  less  than  an  hour.  Louis, 
will  go  out  to  Jennie's  with  you,  Ruth,  I'm  sure." 

"  What?    Oh,  certainly,  if  she  cares  to  have  me." 

"  Goodness,  Louis !  Why  shouldn't  I  want  you  ? 
I'll  get  my  hat  and  jacket  while  you  decide." 

Ruth  came  back  in  a  few  minutes  with  a  small 
sailor-hat  on  and  a  jaunty  tan  jacket,  which  she 
handed  to  Louis  to  hold  for  her. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  147 

"New?"  he  asked,  pulling  it  into  place  in  the 
back. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered;  "  do  you  like  it  for  travel 
ing?" 

"  Under  a  duster.  Otherwise  its  delicate  com 
plexion  will  be  rather  freckled  when  you  arrive  at 
Beacham's." 

He  pulled  his  hat  on  from  ease  to  respectability 
and  followed  her  down  to  the  gate.  They  turned 
the  corner,  walking  southward  down  the  hill.  Mrs. 
Levice  and  her  husband  stood  at  the  gate  and 
watched  them  saunter  off.  When  they  were  quite 
out  of  sight,  Mrs.  Levice  turned  around  and  sang 
softly  to  Mr.  Levice,  "  Ca  va  bien! "  a  gay  little 
French  song  of  the  day. 

The  other  two  walked  on  silently.  The  evening 
was  perfect.  To  the  west  and  sweeping  toward 
Golden  Gate  a  hazy  glory  flushed  the  sky  rose-color 
and  molten  gold,  purple  and  silver;  to  the  north 
ward  seas  of  glinting  pale  green  held  the  eye  with 
strange  beauty.  The  air  was  soft  and  languorous 
after  a  very  warm  day ;  now  and  then  a  piano,  violin, 
or  mandolin  sounded  through  open  windows;  the 
peace  and  beauty  of  evening  went  with  them. 

They  continued  down  Van  Ness  Avenue  a  few 
blocks,  and  carelessly  turned  into  one  of  the  divid 
ing  streets  toward  Franklin.  Suddenly  Arnold  felt 


148  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

his  companion  start,  and  saw  she  had  taken  her 
far-off  gaze  from  the  landscape.  Following  the 
direction  of  her  eyes,  he  straightened  up  stiffly.  The 
disturbing  object  was  a  small  black  sign-plate 
attached  above  a  garden  fence  and  bearing  in  gilt 
letters  the  name  of  Dr.  Herbert  Kemp. 

Approaching  nearer,  Arnold  felt  of  a  certainty 
that  there  would  be  more  speaking  signs  of  the 
doctor's  proximity.  His  premonition  was  not  at 
fault. 

Dr.  Kemp's  quaint,  dark-red  cottage,  with  its 
flower-edged  lawn,  was  reached  by  a  flight  of  low 
granite  steps,  at  the  top  of  which  lounged  the  medi 
cal  gentleman  in  person.  He  was  not  heaven- 
gazing,  but  seemed  plunged  in  tobacco-inspired 
meditation  of  the  flowers  beneath  him.  Arnold's 
quick  eye  detected  the  pink  flush  rising  to  the  little 
ear  of  his  cousin.  The  sound  of  their  footsteps  on 
the  stone  sidewalk  came  faintly  to  Kemp ;  he  raised 
his  eyes  slowly  and  indifferently.  The  indifference 
vanished  as  he  recognized  them. 

With  a  hasty  movement  he  threw  the  cigar  from 
him  and  ran  down  the  steps. 

"  Good-evening,"  he  called,  raising  his  old 
sombrero  and  arresting  their  evident  intention  of 
proceeding  on  their  way.  They  came  up,  perforce, 
and  met  him  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  149 

"  A  beautiful  evening,"  he  said,  holding  out  a 
cordial  hand  to  Arnold  and  looking  with  happy 
eyes  at  Ruth.  She  noticed  a  diverting  change  in  his 
appearance,  he  seemed  different  from  anything  she 
had  been  used  to,  looking  particularly  tall  and  easy 
in  a  loose  dark  velvet  jacket,  thrown  open  from  his 
chest.  The  old  sombrero  hat  which  had  settled  on 
the  back  of  his  head  left  to  view  his  dark  hair 
brushed  carelessly  backward;  an  unusual  color  was 
on  his  cheek,  an  unusual  glow  in  his  gray  eyes. 

"  I  hope,"  he  went  on,  frankly  transferring  his 
attention  to  Ruth,  "  this  weather  will  continue.  We 
are  going  to  have  a  magnificent  autumn ;  the  woods 
must  be  beginning  to  look  gorgeous." 

"  I'll  know  better  tomorrow." 

"  Tomorrow?  " 

'  Yes ;  we  leave  for  Beacham's  tomorrow,  you 
know." 

"  No,  I  didn't  know ;  "  a  frank  shadow  clouded 
his  face,  but  he  said  quickly  — 

'  That's  an  old  hunting-ground  of  mine.  The 
river  is  full  of  trout.  Are  you  a  disciple  of  old 
Walton,  Mr.  Arnold?"  he  turned  with  interest 
toward  the  silent  Frenchman. 

'  You  mean  fishing?  No;  life  is  too  short  to  hang 
my  humor  of  a  whole  day  on  the  end  of  a  line.  I 
have  never  been  to  Beacham's/' 


150  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  BQUAL 

"  Then  you've  missed  it.  But  you'll  probably  go 
down  there  this  year  ?  " 

"  My  business  keeps  me  tied  to  the  city  just  at 
present.  A  professional  man  has  no  such  check; 
his  will  is  his  master." 

"  Hardly,  or  I  should  have  slipped  cables  long 
ago.  A  restful  night  is  an  unknown  indulgence 
sometimes  for  weeks." 

His  gaze  moved  from  Arnold's  peachy  cheek,  and 
falling  upon  Ruth,  surprised  her  dark  eyes  resting 
upon  him  in  anxious  questioning.  He  smiled. 

"  We'll  have  to  be  moving  on,"  she  said  hurriedly, 
holding  out  a  gloved  hand. 

"  Will  you  be  gone  long?  "  he  asked,  pressing  it 
close. 

"  About  a  month." 

"  You'll  be  missed  —  by  the  Flynns.  Good-bye." 
He  raised  his  hat,  looking  steadily  at  her. 

Arnold  drew  her  arm  within  his,  and  they 
walked  off. 

It  is  said  that  the  first  thing  a  Frenchman  learns 
when  studying  the  English  language  is  the  use  of 
that  highly  expressive  outlet  of  emotion,  "  Damn." 
Arnold  was  an  old-timer,  but  he  had  not  outgrown 
the  charm  of  his  first  linguistic  victory,  and  now  as 
he  replaced  his  hat  in  reply  to  Kemp,  he  distinctly, 
though  coolly,  said,  "  Damn  him." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  151 

Ruth  looked  at  him,  startled,  but  the  composed, 
non-committal  expression  of  his  face  led  her  to 
believe  that  her  ears  had  deceived  her. 

A  few  more  blocks  were  passed,  and  they  stopped 
at  a  pretentious,  many-windowed,  Queen  Anne 
house.  Ruth  ran  lightly  up  the  steps,  her  cousin 
following  leisurely. 

She  had  scarcely  rung  the  bell  when  the  door 
was  opened  by  Mrs.  Lewis  herself. 

"  Good-evening,  Ruth;  why,  Mr.  Arnold  doesn't 
mean  to  say  that  he  does  us  the  honor  ?  " 

Mr.  Arnold  had  said  nothing  of  the  kind,  but  he 
offered  no  disclaimer,  and  giving  her  rather  a  loose 
handshake  walked  in. 

"  Come  right  into  the  dining-room,"  she  con 
tinued.  "  I  suppose  you  were  surprised  to  find  me 
in  the  hall ;  I  had  just  come  from  putting  the  chil 
dren  to  bed.  They  were  in  mischievous  spirits  and 
annoyed  their  father,  who  wanted  them  to  be  very 
quiet  this  evening." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  room  at  the 
end  of  the  hall,  the  door  of  which  she  threw  invit 
ingly  open. 

The  apartment  they  entered  was  large  and  con 
tained  the  regulation  chairs,  tables,  and  silver-  and 
crystal-loaded  sideboard. 

Upon  the  mantelpiece,  the  unflickering  light  from 


152  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

a  waxen  taper,  burning  in  a  glass  of  oil,  lent  an  un 
usual  air  of  Sabbath  quiet  to  the  room. 

"  I  have  f  Yahrzeit '  for  my  mother,"  explained 
Jo  Lewis,  glancing  toward  the  taper,  after  greeting 
his  visitors.  He  sat  down  quietly  again. 

"  Do  you  always  burn  the  light  ?  "  asked  Arnold. 

"  Always.  A  light  once  a  year  to  a  mother's 
memory  isn't  much  to  ask  of  a  son." 

"How  long  is  it  since  you  lost  your  mother?" 
questioned  Ruth,  gently. 

Jo  Lewis  was  a  man  with  whom  she  had  little  in 
common.  To  her  he  seemed  to  have  but  one  idea 
—  the  amassing  of  wealth.  With  her  more  intel 
lectual  cravings,  the  continual  striving  for  this,  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  higher  aspirations,  put  him  on 
a  plane  too  narrow  for  her.  Unpolished  he  certainly 
was,  but  the  rough,  exposed  grain  of  his  unhewn 
nature  showed  many  strata  of  virility.  In  this  gentle 
mood  a  tenderness  had  come  to  view  which  drew 
her  to  him  with  a  touch  of  strong,  racial  kinship. 

"Thirty  years,"  he  answered  musingly  — 
"  thirty  years.  It's  a  long  time,  Ruth,  but  every 
year,  when  I  light  the  taper,  it  seems  as  if  it  was  only 
yesterday  I  was  a  boy  crying  because  my  mother 
had  gone  away  forever."  The  strong  man  wiped 
his  eyes,  unashamed. 

"  The   little   light   casts   a   long   ray,"   observed 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  153 

Ruth.  "  Love  builds  its  own  lighthouse,  and  by  its 
gleaming  we  travel  back,  as  at  a  leap,  to  that  which 
seemed  eternally  lost." 

Jo  Lewis  sighed.  Presently  the  thoughts  so 
strongly  possessing  him  found  an  outlet. 

"  There  was  a  woman  for  you !  "  he  cried  with 
glowing  eyes.  "  Why,  Arnold,  you  talk  of  men 
being  great  financiers;  I  wonder  what  you  would 
have  said  to  the  abilities  my  mother  showed.  We 
were  poor,  but  poor  to  a  degree  of  which  you  can 
know  nothing.  Well,  with  a  large  family  of  small 
children  she  struggled  on  alone,  and  managed  to 
keep  us  not  only  alive,  but  educated  and  respectable. 
In  our  village  Sara  Lewis  was  a  name  every  man 
and  woman  honored  as  if  it  belonged  to  a  princess. 
Jennie  is  a  good  woman,  but  life's  made  easy  for 
her.  I  often  think  how  grand  my  mother  would 
feel  if  she  were  here,  and  I  were  able  to  give  her 
every  comfort.  God  knows  how  proud  and  happy 
I  would  have  been  to  say, '  You've  struggled  enough, 
mother;  life  is  going  to  be  a  heaven  on  earth  to  you 
now.'  Well,  well,  what's  the  good  of  thinking  of 
it?  Tomorrow  I'll  go  down  town  and  deal  with 
men,  not  memories;  it's  more  profitable." 

"  Not  always,"  said  Arnold,  dryly.  The  two 
men  drifted  into  a  business  discussion  which  neither 
Mrs.  Lewis  nor  Ruth  cared  to  follow. 


154  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Are  you  quite  ready  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lewis,  draw 
ing  her  chair  closer  to  Ruth's. 

"  Entirely,"  she  replied ;  "  we  start  on  the  eight- 
thirty  train  in  the  morning." 

"  You'll  be  gone  a  month,  won't  you?  " 

"  Yes ;  we  want  to  get  back  for  the  holidays. 
New  Year  falls  on  the  twelfth  of  September,  and 
we  must  give  the  house  its  usual  holiday  cleaning." 

"  I've  begun  already.  Somehow,  I  never  thought 
you  would  mind  being  away." 

"  Why,  we  always  go  to  the  Temple,  you  know. 
And  I  wouldn't  miss  the  Atonement  services  for  a 
great  deal." 

"  Why  don't  you  say  '  Yom  Kippur/  as  every 
body  else  does  ?  " 

"  Because  '  Atonement '  is  English  and  means 
something  to  me.  Is  there  anything  odd  about 
that?" 

"  I  suppose  not.  By  the  way,  if  there's  anything 
you  would  like  to  have  done  while  you  are  away, 
let  me  know." 

"  I  think  I  have  seen  to  everything.  You  might 
run  in  and  see  Louis  now  and  then." 

"  Louis,"  Mrs.  Lewis  called  instantly,  "  be  sure 
to  come  in  often  for  dinner  while  the  folks  are 
gone." 

"  Thank  you ;  I  shall.    The  last  dinner  I  ate  with 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  155 

you  was  delicious  enough  to  do  away  with  any 
verbal  invitation  to  another." 

He  rose,  seeing  Ruth  had  risen  and  was  kissing 
her  cousins  good-bye. 

Mrs.  Lewis  beamed  with  pleasure  at  his  words. 

"  Now,  won't  you  take  something  before  you 
go  ? "  she  asked.  "  Ruth,  I  have  the  loveliest 
cakes!" 

"  Oh,  Jennie,"  remonstrated  Ruth,  as  her  cousin 
bustled  off,  "  we've  just  dined." 

"  Let  her  enjoy  herself,"  observed  her  husband, 
"  she's  never  so  happy  as  when  she's  feeding  some 
body." 

The  clink  of  glasses  was  soon  heard,  and  Mrs. 
Lewis's  rosy  face  appeared  behind  a  tray  with  tiny 
glasses  and  a  plate  of  rich,  brown  little  cakes. 

"  J°»  £et  the  Kirsch.  You  must  try  one,  Ruth ;  I 
made  them  myself." 

When  they  had  complimented  her  on  her  cakes 
and  Louis  had  drunk  to  his  next  transaction  — 
suggested  by  Jo  Lewis  —  the  visitors  departed. 

They  had  been  walking  in  almost  total  silence 
for  a  number  of  blocks,  when  Ruth  turned  suddenly 
to  him  and  said,  with  great  earnestness : 

"  Louis,  whatever  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  For 
the  last  few  days  you  have  hardly  spoken  to  me. 
Have  I  done  anything  to  annoy  you  ?  " 


156  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"You?     Why,  no,  not  that  I  remember." 

"  Then,  please,  before  we  go  off,  be  decent  to  me 
again." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  of  a  very  hilarious  tem 
perament" 

"  Still,  you  manage  to  talk  to  others." 

"  Have  you  cared  very  much  who  has  talked  to 
you  lately  ?  " 

Her  cheek  changed  color  in  the  starlight. 

u  What  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded. 

"  Anything  —  or  nothing." 

Ruth  looked  at  him  haughtily. 

"  If  nothing,"  he  continued,  observing  her 
askance  from  lowered  lids,  "  what  I  am  about  to 
say  will  be  harmless.  If  anything,  I  still  hope  you 
will  find  it  pardonable." 

"  What  are  you  about  to  say  ?  " 

"  It  won't  take  long.     Will  you  be  my  wife?  " 

And  the  stars  still  shone  up  in  heaven ! 

Her  face  turned  white  as  a  niphetos  rose. 

"  Louis,"  she  said  finally,  speaking  with  difficulty, 
"  why  do  you  ask  me  this  ?  " 

"  Why  does  any  man  ask  a  woman  to  be  his 
wife?" 

"  Generally  because  he  loves  her." 

"Well?" 

If    he    had    spoken    outright,    she    might    have 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  157 

answered  him,  but  the  simple  monosyllable,  imply 
ing  a  world  of  restrained  avowal,  confronted  her 
like  a  wall,  before  which  she  stood  silent. 

"Answer  me,  Ruth." 

"If  you  mean  it,  Louis,  I  am  very,  very  sorry." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  can  never  be  your  wife." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  don't  love  you  —  like  that." 

Silence  for  half  a  block,  the  man's  lips  pressed 
hard  together  under  his  mustache,  the  girl's  heart 
beating  suffocatingly.  When  he  spoke,  his  voice 
sounded  oddly  clear  in  the  hushed  night  air. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by,  '  like  that '  ?  " 

Her  little  hand  was  clinched  tight  as  it  lay  within 
his  arm.  The  perfect  silence  following  the  words 
of  each  made  every  movement  significant. 

"  You  know  —  as  a  woman  loves  the  man  she 
would  marry,  not  as  she  loves  a  brotherly  cousin." 

"  The  difference  is  not  clear  to  me  —  but  —  how 
did  you  learn  the  difference?  " 

"  How  dare  you?  "  she  cried,  flashing!  a  pair  of 
dark,  wet  eyes  upon  him. 

"  In  this  case,  '  I  dare  do  all  that  may  become  a 
man.'  Besides,  even  if  there  is  a  difference,  I  still 
ask  you  to  be  my  wife.  You  would  not  regret  it, 
Ruth,  I  think." 


158  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

His  voice  was  not  soft,  but  there  was  a  certain 
strained  pleading  about  it  which  pained  her  inex 
pressibly. 

"  Louis,"  she  said,  with  slow  distinctness,  her 
hand  moving  down  until  it  touched  his,  "  I  never 
thought  of  this  as  a  possibility.  You  know  how 
much  I've  always  loved  you,  dear;  but,  oh  Louis! 
will  it  hurt  you  very  much,  will  you  forgive  me  if 
I  have  to  say  no,  I  cannot  be  your  wife?  " 

"  Wait.  I  ask  you  to  consider  this  well.  I  am 
offering  you  all  that  I  have  in  the  world;  it  is  not 
despicable.  Your  family,  I  know,  would  be  pleased. 
Besides,  it  would  be  well  for  you  —  God  knows,  not 
because  I  am  what  I  am,  but  for  other  reasons. 
Wait.  I  beg  of  you  not  to  answer  me  till  you  have 
thought  it  over.  You  know  me ;  I  am  no  saint,  but 
a  man  who  would  give  his  life  for  you.  I  ask  of 
you  nothing  but  the  right  to  guard  yours.  Don't 
answer  me  now." 

They  had  turned  the  corner  of  their  block. 

"  I  need  no  time,"  said  Ruth,  with  a  quick  sob  in 
her  voice.  "  I  can't  marry  you,  Louis.  My  answer 
would  be  the  same  tomorrow  or  at  the  end  of  all 
time  —  I  can  never,  never  be  your  wife." 

"  It  is  then  as  I  feared  —  anything." 

The  girl's  bowed  head  was  the  only  answer  to  his 
bitter  divination. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  159 

"  Well,"  he  said,  with  a  hard  laugh,  "  that  ends 
it,  then.  Don't  let  it  bother  you.  Your  answer  has 
put  it  entirely  from  my  mind.  I  should  be  pleased 
if  you  would  forget  it  as  readily  as  I  shall  try  to. 
I  hardly  think  we  shall  meet  in  the  morning.  I  am 
going  down  to  the  club  now.  Good-bye;  enjoy 
yourself." 

He  held  out  his  hand  lightly;  Ruth  carried  it  in 
both  hers  to  her  lips.  Being  at  the  gate,  he  lifted 
his  hat  with  a  smile  and  walked  away.  Ruth  did 
not  smile;  neither  did  Arnold  when  he  had  turned 
from  her. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

BEACHAM'S  lies  in  a  dimple  of  the  inner  coast 
range,  and  was  reached  then  through  what 
was,  in  that  day,  one  of  the  finest  pieces  of  engineer 
ing  skill  in  the  State.  The  tortuous  route  through 
the  mountains,  over  trestle-bridges  which  span  what 
seem,  from  the  car-windows,  like  bottomless  chasms, 
had  need  to  hold  some  compensation  at  the  end  to 
counterbalance  the  fears  engendered  on  the  way. 
The  higher  one  goes,  the  more  beautiful  becomes 
the  scenery  among  the  wild,  marvelous  redwoods 
which  stand  like  mammoth  guides  pointing  heaven 
ward  —  and  Beacham's  realizes  expectation. 

It  is  a  quiet,  unpretentious  little  place,  with  its 
one  hotel  and  two  attached  cottages,  its  old,  disused 
sawmill,  its  tiny  schoolhouse  beyond  the  fairy-like 
woods,  its  one  general  merchandise  store,  where 
cheese  and  calico,  hats  and  hoes,  ham  and  hominy, 
are  forthcoming  upon  solicitation.  It  is  by  no  means 
a  fashionable  resort;  the  Levices  had  searched  for 
something  as  unlike  Del  Monte  and  Coronado  as 
milk  is  unlike  champagne.  They  were  looking  for 

160 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  161 

a  pretty,  healthful  spot,  with  good  accommodations 
and  few  social  attractions,  and  Beacham's  offered 
all  this. 

They  were  not  disappointed.  Ruth's  anticipa 
tion  was  fulfilled  when  she  saw  the  river.  Russian 
River  is  about  as  pretty  a  stream  as  one  can  view 
upon  a  summer's  day.  Here  at  Beacham's  it  is  very 
narrow  and  shallow,  with  low,  shelving  beaches  on 
either  bank.  In  the  tiny  rowboat  which  she  imme 
diately  secured,  Ruth  pushed  her  way  into  enchant 
ment.  The  river  winds  in  and  out  through  exquisite 
coves  entangled  in  a  wilderness  of  brambles  and 
lacelike  ferns  almost  transparent  as  they  bend  and 
dip  toward  the  silvery  waters;  while,  climbing  over 
the  rocky  cliffs,  run  bracken  and  the  fragrant  yerba- 
buena,  till,  on  high,  they  creep  as  if  in  awe  about 
the  great  redwoods  and  pines  of  the  forest. 

Morning  and  night  Ruth,  in  her  little  boat,  wooed 
the  lisping  waters.  Often  of  a  morning  her  mother 
was  her  companion;  later  on,  her  father  or  little 
Ethel  Tyrrell;  in  the  evening  one  of  the  Tyrrell 
boys,  generally  Will,  was  her  gallant  cavalier.  But 
it  was  always  Ruth  who  rowed  —  Ruth  in  her 
pretty  sailor  blouse,  with  her  strong  round  arms  and 
steadily  browning  hands ;  Ruth,  whose  creamy  face 
and  neck  remained  provokingly  unreddened,  and 
took  on  only  a  little  deeper  tint,  as  if  a  dash  of  bistre 


162  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

had  been  softly  applied.  It  was  pleasant  enough 
rowing  down-stream  with  Ruth;  she  always  knew 
when  to  sing  "  Nancy  Lee,"  and  when  "  White 
Wings  "  sounded  prettiest.  There  were  numerous 
coves,  too,  where  she  loved  to  beach  her  boat  — 
here  to  fill  a  flask  with  honey-sweet  water  from  a 
rollicking  little  spring  which  came  merrily  dashing 
over  the  rocks,  there  to  gather  some  delicate  ferns 
or  maiden-hair  with  which  to  decorate  the  table,  or 
the  trailing  yerba-buena  for  festooning  the  boat. 
But  Ethel  Tyrrell,  aged  three,  thought  they  had  the 
"  dolliest  "  time  when  she  and  Ruth,  having  rowed 
a  space  out  of  sight,  jumped  out,  and  taking  off  their 
shoes  and  stockings  and  making  all  the  other  neces 
sary  preliminaries  to  wading,  pattered  along  over 
the  pebbly  bottom,  screaming  when  a  sharp  stone 
came  against  their  tender  feet,  laughing  gleefully 
when  the  water  rose  a  little  higher  than  they  had 
bargained  for;  then,  when  quite  tired,  they  would 
retire  to  the  beach  or  the  boat  and  dry  themselves 
in  the  soft  damask  of  the  sun. 

Ruth  was  happy.  There  were  moments  when  the 
remembrance  of  her  last  meeting  with  Louis  came 
like  a  summer  cloud  over  the  ineffable  brightness  of 
her  sky,  and  she  felt  a  sharp  pang  at  heart.  Still, 
she  thought,  it  was  different  with  Louis.  His  feel 
ing  for  her  could  not  be  so  strong  as  to  make  him 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  163 

suffer  poignantly  over  her  refusal.  She  was  almost 
convinced  that  he  had  asked  her  more  from  a  whim 
of  good-fellowship,  a  sudden  desire,  perhaps  a  pref 
erence  for  her  close  companionship  when  he  did 
marry,  than  from  any  deeper  emotion.  And  yet  — 
No,  how  could  he  know !  In  consequence  of  which 
conclusion,  her  musings  were  not  so  sad  as  they 
might  otherwise  have  been. 

Her  parents  laughed  to  see  how  she  reveled  in 
the  freedom  of  the  old-fashioned  little  spot,  which, 
though  on  the  river,  was  decidedly  "  out  of  the 
swim."  It  was  late  in  the  season,  and  there  were 
few  guests  at  the  hotel.  The  Levices  occupied  one 
of  the  cottages,  the  other  being  taken  by  a  pair  of 
belated  turtledoves,  the  wife  a  blushing  dot  of  a 
woman,  the  husband  an  overgrown  youth  who  bent 
over  her  in  their  walks  like  a  devoted  weeping-wil 
low;  there  was  a  young  man  with  a  consumptive 
cough,  a  natty  little  stenographer:  off  on  a  solitary 
vacation,  and  the  golden-haired  Tyrrell  family,  little 
and  big,  for  Papa  Tyrrell  could  not  enjoy  his  hard- 
earned  rest  without  one  and  all.  They  were  such 
a  gentle,  happy,  sweet  family,  for  all  their  pinched 
circumstances,  that  the  Levices  were  attracted  to 
them  at  once.  To  be  with  Mrs.  Tyrrell  one  whole 
day,  Mrs.  Levice  said,  was  a  liberal  education  —  so 
bright,  so  uncomplaining,  so  ambitious  for  her  chil- 


164  OTHER  THINGS  BB1NG  EQUAL 

dren  was  she,  and  such  a  help  and  inspiration  to  her 
hard-worked  husband.  Mr.  Levice  tramped  about 
the  woods  with  Tyrrell  and  brier-wood  pipes,  and 
appreciated  the  moral  bravery  of  a  man  who  strug 
gled  on  with  a  happy  face  and  small  hope  for  any 
earthly  rest.  But  the  children!  Floy  with  her 
dreamy  face  and  busy  sketchbook,  Will  with  his 
halo  of  golden  hair,  his  manly  figure  and  broad, 
open  ambitions,  Boss  with  his  busy  step  and  fishing- 
tackle,  and  baby  Ethel,  the  wee  darling,  who  ran 
after  Ruth  the  first  time  she  saw  her  and  begged 
her  to  come  and  play  with  her;  ever  since,  she  had 
formed  a  part  of  the  drapery  of  Ruth's  skirt  or  a 
rather  cumbersome  necklace  about  her  neck.  Every 
girl  who  has  been  debarred  the  blessing  of  babies  in 
the  house  loves  them  promiscuously  and  passion 
ately,  and  Ruth  was  no  exception.  It  amused  the 
mothers  to  watch  her  cuddle  the  child  and  wonder 
aloud  at  all  her  baby-talk. 

Will  was  her  next  favorite  satellite.  A  young 
girl  with  a  winsome,  sympathetic  face  and  hearty 
manner  may  easily  become  the  confidante  of  a  manly 
fellow  of  fourteen.  Will,  with  his  arm  tucked 
through  hers,  would  saunter  around  after  dusk  and 
tell  her  all  his  ambitions.  The  soft,  starry  evenings 
up  in  the  mountains,  where  heaven  seems  so  near, 
were  just  the  time  for  such  talks. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  165 

They  were  walking  thus  one  evening  toward  the 
river,  Ruth  in  a  creamy  gown  and  a  white  scarf 
thrown  over  her  head,  Will  without  a  hat,  letting 
the  sweet  air  play  through  his  hair,  as  he  loved 
to  do. 

"  What  do  you  think  are  the  greatest  professions, 
Miss  Ruth?  "  asked  the  boy  suddenly. 

"  Well,  law  is  one  —  "  she  began. 

"  That's  the  way  papa  begins,"  he  interrupted 
impatiently ;  "  but  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  is  the 
greatest.  Guess,  now." 

"  The  ministry?  "  she  ventured. 

"  Oh,  of  course ;  but  I'm  not  good  enough  for 
that  —  that  takes  exceptions.  Guess  again." 

"  Well,  there  are  the  fine  arts,  or  soldiery  —  that's 
it.  You  would  be  a  brave  soldier,  Willikins,  my 
man." 

"  No,  sir !  "  he  replied,  flinging  back  his  head. 
"  I  don't  want  to  take  lives;  I  want  to  save  them." 

"  You  mean  —  a  physician,  Will  ?  " 

"  That's  it  —  but  not  exactly  —  I  mean  a  sur 
geon.  Don't  you  think  that  takes  bravery?  And 
it's  a  long  sight  better  than  being  a  soldier ;  he  draws 
blood  to  kill,  we  do  it  to  save.  What  do  you  think, 
Miss  Ruth?  We're  not  going  to  have  any  war,  you 
know.  And  if  we  do  —  won't  I  be  able  to  do  some 
thing  for  my  country?  " 


166  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Indeed,  you  are  right,"  she  answered  dreamily, 
her  thoughts  wandering  beyond  the  river.  So  they 
walked  along,  and  as  they  were  about  to  descend 
the  slope,  a  man  in  overalls,  carrying  a  leather  bag. 
came  suddenly  upon  them  in  the  gloaming.  He 
stood  stock-still,  his  mouth  gaping  wide. 

When  Ruth  saw  it  was  Ben,  the  steward,  she 
laughed. 

"  Why,  Ben !  "  she  exclaimed. 

The  man's  mouth  slowly  closed,  and  his  hand 
went  up  to  his  cap. 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  Miss  —  I  mean  Her  par 
don  —  the  Lord  forgive  me,  I  took  you  for  the  Lady 
Madonna  and  the  blessed  Boy  with  the  shining  hair. 
Now,  don't  be  telling  of  me,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  we  won't ;  we'll  keep  the  pretty  compli 
ment  to  ourselves.  Have  you  the  mail?  I  wonder 
if  there's  anything  for  me." 

Ben  immediately  drew  out  his  little  pack,  and 
handed  her  two.  It  was  still  light  enough  to  read, 
and  as  the  man  moved  on,  she  stood  and  opened 
them. 

"  This,"  she  announced  in  matter-of-course  open 
ness,  "  is  from  Miss  Dorothy  Gwynne,  who  requests 
the  pleasure  of  my  company  at  a  tea  next  Satur 
day.  That,  or  the  hay-ride,  Will?  And  this  — 
this  —  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  167 

It  was  a  simple  envelope  addressed  to 

Miss   RUTH   LEVICE  — 

Beacham's  — 

Sonoma  County  — 
Cal. 

It  was  the  sight  of  the  peculiar  use  of  the  dashes 
which  caused  the  hiatus  in  her  sentence,  and  made 
her  heart  give  one  great  rushing  bound.  The 
enclosure  was  to  the  point. 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  Aug.  18,  189 — . 
Miss  RUTH  LEVICE: 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND  —  That  you  may  not  denounce  me  as 
too  presumptuous,  I  shall  at  once  explain  that  I  am  writ 
ing  this  at  Bob's  urgent  desire.  He  has  at  last  got  the  job 
at  the  florist's,  and  tells  me  to  tell  you  that  he  is  now 
happy.  I  dropped  in  there  last  night,  and  when  he  gave 
me  this  message,  I  told  him  that  I  feared  you  would  take 
it  as  an  advertisement.  He  merely  smiled,  picked  up  a 
Marechal  Niel  lying  on  the  counter,  and  said,  "  Drop 
this  in.  It's  my  mark;  she'll  understand."  So  here  are 
Bob's  rose  and  my  apology. 

HERBERT  KEMP. 

She  was  pale  when  she  turned  round  to  the  cour 
teously  waiting  boy.  It  was  a  very  cold  note,  and 
she  put  it  in  her  pocket  to  keep  it  warm.  The  rose 
she  showed  to  Will,  and  told  him  the  story  of  the 
sender. 


168  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you,"  he  cried,  when  she  had  fin 
ished,  "  a  doctor  has  the  greatest  opportunity  in  the 
world  to  be  great  —  and  a  surgeon  comes  near  it. 
I  say,  Miss  Ruth,  your  Dr.  Kemp  must  be  a  brick. 
Isn't  he?" 

"  Boys  would  call  him  so,"  she  answered,  shiver 
ing  slightly. 

It  was  so  like  him,  she  thought,  to  fulfil  Bob's 
request  in  his  hearty,  friendly  way  —  and  nothing 
more.  She  supposed  he  wanted  her  to  understand 
that  he  wrote  to  her  only  as  Bob's  amanuensis  —  it 
was  plain  enough.  And  yet,  and  yet,  she  thought 
passionately,  it  would  have  been  no  more  than  sim 
ple  etiquette  to  send  a  friendly  word  from  himself 
to  —  her  mother.  However,  the  note  was  not 
thrown  away.  Like  all  girls,  since  she  could  not 
have  the  handshake,  she  had  to  content  herself  with 
a  sight  of  the  glove. 

And  Ruth,  in  the  warm,  throbbing,  summer  days, 
was  happy.  She  was  not  always  active ;  there  were 
long  afternoons  when  mere  existence  was  intensely 
beautiful.  To  lie  at  full  length  upon  the  soft  turf  in 
the  depths  of  the  small,  enchanted  woods,  and  hear 
and  feel  herself  at  one  with  the  countless  spells  of 
nature,  was  unspeakable  rapture. 

"  Ah,  Floy,"  she  cried  one  afternoon,  as  she  lay 
with  her  face  turned  up  to  the  great  green  boughs 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  169 

which  seemed  penciled  against  the  azure  sky,  "  if 
one  could  paint  what  one  feels!  Look  at  these 
silent,  living  trees  that  stand  in  all  their  grandeur 
as  if  under  some  mighty  spell;  see  how  the  won 
derful  heaven  steals  through  the  leaves  and  throws 
its  blue  softness  upon  this  twilight  gloom;  here  at 
our  feet  —  look  at  these  soft,  green  ferns,  and  over 
it  all  is  the  indescribable  fragrance  of  the  redwoods. 
Turn  there,  to  your  right,  little  artist,  high  up  on 
that  mountain.  Can  you  see  through  that  shimmer 
ing  haze  a  great  team  moving  as  if  through  the  air? 
It's  like  the  vision  of  the  Bethshemites  in  Dore's 
mystic  work,  '  when,  in  the  valley,  they  lifted  up 
their  eyes  and  beheld  the  ark  returning/  Oh,  Floy, 
it  isn't  nature ;  it's  God.  And  who  can  paint  God  ?  " 

"  No  one.  If  one  could  paint  Him  —  the  Vision 
—  He  would  no  longer  be  God,"  answered  the  girl, 
resting  her  sober  eyes  upon  Ruth's  enraptured  coun 
tenance. 

One  afternoon  Ruth  took  a  book  and  Ethel  over 
the  tramway  to  this  fairy  spot.  It  was  very  warm 
and  still.  Mrs.  Levice  had  swung  herself  to  sleep 
in  the  hammock,  and  Mr.  Levice  was  dozing  and 
talking  in  snatches  to  the  Tyrrells,  who  were  like 
wise  resting  on  the  Levices'  veranda.  All  nature 
was  drowsy,  as  Ruth  wandered  off  with  the  little 
one,  who  chatted  on  as  was  her  wont. 


170  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Me  and  you's  yunnin'  away,"  she  laughed ; 
"  we's  goin'  to  a  fewest,  and  by  and  by  two  'ittle 
birdies  will  cover  us  up  wid  leaves.  My !  won't  my 
mamma  be  sorry!  No  darlin'  'ittle  Ethel  to  pank 
and  tiss  no  more.  Poor  mamma !  " 

"  Does  Ethel  think  mamma  likes  to  spank  her  ?  " 
"  Yes;  mammas  does  des  what  dey  likes." 
"  But  it  is  only  when  EtheFs  naughty  that  mamma 
spanks  her.    Here,  sweetheart,  let  me  tie  your  sun- 
bonnet  tighter.     Now  Ruth  is  going  to  lie  here  and 
read,  and  you  can  play  hide-and-seek  all  about  these 
trees." 

"  Can    I   go   wound   and   sit   on   dat   log  by  a 
bwook?" 
"  Yes." 

"  Oh,  Fs  afwaid.    I's  dweffully  afwaid." 
"  Why,  you  can  turn  round  and  talk  to  me  all 
the  time." 

"  But  nobody  '11  be  sitting  by  me  at  all." 
"  I'm  here,  just  where  you  can  see  me.     Besides, 
you  know,  God  will  be  right  next  to  you." 
"Will  He?    Den  a'  yight." 

Ruth  took  off  her  hat  and  prepared  to  enjoy  her 
self.  As  her  head  touched  the  green  knoll,  she  saw 
the  little  maiden  seat  herself  on  the  log,  and  turn 
ing  her  face  sideways,  say  in  her  pleasant,  piping 
voice : 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  171 

"  How-de-do,  Dod  ?  "  And  having  made  her 
acknowledgments,  all  her  fears  vanished. 

Ruth  laughed  softly  to  herself  at  her  strategy, 
and  straightway  began  to  read.  The  afternoon 
burned  itself  away.  Ethel  played  and  sang  and 
danced  about  her,  quite  oblivious  of  the  heat.  But, 
tired  out  at  last,  she  threw  herself  into  Ruth's  arms. 

"  Sing  by-low  now,"  she  demanded  sleepily ;  "  pay 
it's  night,  and  you  and  me's  in  a  yockin'-chair  goin' 
to  by-low  land." 

Ruth,  nothing  loath,  and  realizing  that  the  child 
was  weary,  drew  the  little  head  to  her  bosom,  threw 
off  the  huge  sunbonnet  and  ruffled  up  the  damp, 
golden  locks. 

"What  shall  I  sing,  sweetheart?"  she  mused: 
she  was  unused  to  singing  babies  to  sleep.  Suddenly 
a  little  kindergarten  melody  she  had  heard  came  to 
her,  and  she  sang  softly  in  her  rich,  tender  con 
tralto  the  lingering,  swinging  cradle-song: 

In  a  cradle,  on  the  treetop, 

Sleeps  a  tiny  bird; 
Sweeter  sound  than  mother's  chirping 

Never  yet  was  heard. 
See,  the  green  leaves  spread  like  curtains 

Round  the  tiny  bed, 
While  the  mother's  wings,  outstretching, 

Shield  —  the  —  tiny  —  head . 


172  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

As  her  voice  died  slowly  into  silence,  she  found 
Ethel  looking  over  her  shoulder  and  nodding  her 
head. 

"  No;  I  won't  tell,"  the  child  said  loudly. 

"  Tell  what?  "  asked  Ruth,  amused. 

"  Hush !    He  put  his  finger  on  his  mouf  —  sh !  " 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Ruth,  turning  her  head  hurriedly. 
Not  being  able  to  see  through  the  tree,  she  started 
to  her  feet,  still  holding  the  child. 

Between  two  trees  stood  the  stalwart  figure  of 
Dr.  Kemp  —  Dr.  Kemp  in  loose,  light  gray  tweeds 
and  white  flannel  shirt ;  on  the  back  of  his  head  was 
a  small,  soft  felt  hat,  which  he  lifted  as  she  turned 
—  a  wave  of  color  springing  to  his  cheek  with  the 
action.  As  for  Ruth  - —  her  woman's  face  dared 
not  speak. 

"  Did  I  frighten  you  ?  "  he  asked,  coming  slowly 
forward,  hat  in  hand,  the  golden  shafts  of  the  sun 
falling  upon  his  head  and  figure. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  trying  to  speak  calmly,  and 
failing,  dropped  into  silence. 

She  made  no  movement  toward  him.  She  had 
let  the  child  glide  softly  down  till  she  stood  at  her 
side. 

"  I  interrupted  you,"  he  continued.  "  Won't  you 
shake  hands  with  me,  nevertheless?" 

She  put  her  hand  into  his  proffered  one,  which 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  173 

lingered  in  the  touch.  Without  looking  at  her  again, 
he  stooped  and  spoke  to  the  child.  In  that  moment 
she  had  time  to  compose  herself. 

"  Do  you  often  come  up  this  way?  "  she  ventured. 

He  turned  from  the  child,  straightening  himself, 
and  leaned  one  arm  against  the  tree. 

"  Once  or  twice  every  summer  I  run  away  from 
humanity  for  a  few  days,  and  generally  find  myself 
in  this  part  of  the  country.  This  is  one  of  my 
sacred  spots.  I  knew  you  would  ferret  it  out." 

"  It's  very  lovely  here.  But  we're  going  home 
now;  the  afternoon  is  growing  old.  Come,  Ethel.'* 

A  shadow  fell  upon  his  dark  eyes  while  she  spoke, 
scarcely  looking  at  him.  Why  should  she  hurry 
off  at  his  coming? 

"  I'm  sorry  I've  disturbed  you  so,"  he  said  qui 
etly  ;  "  but  I  can  easily  go  away  again.'' 

"  Was  I  so  rude?  "  She  looked  up  with  a  frown 
ing  smile.  "  I  did  not  mean  it  so,  but  Ethel's  mother 
will  want  her  now." 

"  Ethel  wants  to  be  tarried,"  begged  the  child. 

"All  right;  Ruth  will  carry  you."  She  stooped 
to  raise  her,  but  as  she  did  so,  Kemp's  strong  hand 
lightly  touched  her  arm  and  held  her  back. 

"  Ethel  will  ride  home  on  my  shoulder,"  he  said 
in  the  gay,  winning  voice  he  knew  so  well  how  to 
use  with  children.  The  baby's  blue  eyes  smiled  in 


174  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

response  to  his  as  he  swung  her  lightly  to  his  broad 
shoulder.  There  is  nothing  prettier  to  a  woman 
than  to  see  the  confidence  a  little  child  reposes  in  a 
strong  man. 

So,  through  the  mellow,  golden  sunlight,  they 
strolled  slowly  homeward.  Truly  summer  went 
with  them,  the  phantom  spirit,  all  light,  all  glory, 
without  a  shadow  in  its  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XV 

MR.  LEVICE,  sauntering  down  the  garden- 
path,  saw  the  trio  approaching.  For  a 
moment  he  did  not  recognize  the  newcomer  in  his 
summer  attire.  When  he  did,  surprise,  then  pleas 
ure,  then  a  spirit  of  inquietude,  took  possession  of 
him.  He  had  been  unexpectedly  startled  on  the 
night  of  Ruth's  birthday  by  a  vague  something  in 
Kemp's  eyes.  The  feeling,  however,  had  vanished 
gradually  in  the  knowledge  that  the  doctor  always 
had  a  peculiarly  intent  gaze,  and,  moreover,  no  one 
could  have  helped  appreciating  the  girl's  loveliness 
that  night.  This,  of  itself,  will  bring  a  softness  into 
a  man's  manner,  he  knew,  and  without  doubt  his 
fears  had  been  groundless  —  fears  he  had  not  dared 
to  put  into  words.  For,  old  man  as  he  was,  he 
realized  that  Dr.  Kemp's  personality  was  such  as 
would  prove  dangerously  seductive  to  any  woman 
whom  he  cared  to  honor  with  his  favor.  But  with 
a  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  "  desire,  he  had  put 
the  foreboding  from  him.  He  could  have  taken  his 
oath  upon  Ruth's  heart-wholeness;  yet  now,  as  he 

175 


176  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

recognized  her  companion,  his  misgivings  returned 
threefold.  The  courteous  gentleman,  however,  was 
at  his  ease  as  they  came  up. 

"  This  is  a  surprise,  doctor,"  he  exclaimed  cor 
dially,  opening  the  gate  and  extending  his  hand. 
"  Who  would  have  thought  of  meeting  you  here?  " 

Kemp  grasped  his  hand  heartily. 

"  I  am  a  sort  of  surprise-party,"  he  answered, 
swinging  Ethel  to  the  ground  and  watching  her 
scamper  off  to  the  hotel ;  "  and  what's  more,"  he 
continued,  turning  to  him,  "  I  didn't  even  wire  for 
accommodations." 

"  You  calculate  without  your  host,"  responded 
Levice.  "  The  place  is  half  empty  now.  But  come 
up  and  listen  to  my  wife  rhapsodize.  She'll  be 
delighted  to  see  you." 

"  How  is  she?  "  he  asked,  turning  with  him  and 
catching  a  glimpse  of  Ruth's  figure  at  the  door. 

"  Feeling  quite  well,"  replied  Levice.  "  She's 
all  impatience  now  for  a  delirious  winter  season." 

"  I  thought  so,"  smiled  the  doctor.  "  But  if  you 
take  my  advice,  you'll  draw  the  bit  slightly." 

Mrs.  Levice  was  unfeigned  in  her  delight  at  sight 
of  him;  she  said  it  was  like  the  sight  of  a  cable-car 
in  a  desert.  He  protested  at  such  a  stupendous  com 
parison,  and  insisted  that  she  make  clear  that  the 
dummy  was  not  included.  The  late  afternoon  glided 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  177 

soon  into  evening,  and  Dr.  Kemp  went  over  to  the 
hotel  and  dined  at  the  Levices'  table. 

Ruth,  in  a  white  wool  gown,  sat  opposite  him.  It 
was  the  first  time  he  had  dined  with  them,  and  he 
enjoyed  a  singular  feeling  in  the  situation.  He 
noticed  that  although  Mrs.  Levice  kept  up  a  flow  of 
talk,  she  ate  heartily,  and  that  Ruth,  very  quiet, 
tasted  scarcely  anything.  Her  father  also  observed 
it,  and  resolved  upon  a  course  of  strict  surveillance. 
He  was  glad  to  hear  that  the  doctor  had  to  leave 
on  the  early  morning  train,  though,  of  course,  he 
did  not  voice  his  relief.  As  they  strolled  about  after 
ward,  he  managed  to  keep  his  daughter  with  him 
and  allowed  Kemp  to  appropriate  his  wife. 

They  finally  drifted  to  the  cottage-steps,  and  were 
enjoying  the  beauty  of  the  night  when  Will  Tyrrell 
presented  himself  before  them. 

"  Good-evening,"  he  said,  standing  slim  and 
straight  as  an  arrow  at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  "  Mr. 
Levice,  father  says  he  has  at  last  scared  up  two  other 
gentlemen ;  and  will  you  please  come  over  and  play 
a  rubber  of  whist?  " 

Mr.  Levice  felt  himself  a  victim  of  circumstances. 
He  and  Mr.  Tyrrell  had  been  looking  for  a  couple 
of  opponents,  and  had  almost  given  up  the  search. 
Now,  when  he  decidedly  objected  to  moving,  it 
would  have  been  heartless  not  to  go. 


178  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Don't  consider  me,"  put  in  the  doctor,  observ 
ing  his  hesitancy.  "If  it  will  relieve  you,  I  assure 
you  I  won't  miss  you  in  the  least." 

"  Go  right  ahead,  Jules,"  urged  his  wife;  "  Ruth 
and  I  will  take  care  of  the  doctor." 

If  she  had  promised  to  take  care  of  Ruth,  it  would 
have  been  more  to  the  point,  but  since  his  wife  was 
there,  what  harm  could  arise  that  his  presence  would 
prevent?  So,  with  a  sincere  apology,  he  went  over 
to  the  hotel. 

He  hardly  appreciated  what  an  admirable  aide  he 
had  left  behind  him  in  his  wife. 

Kemp  sat  upon  the  top  step,  leaning  his  back 
against  the  railing.  Although  outwardly  he  kept  up 
a  constant  low  run  of  conversation  with  Mrs. 
Levice,  swaying  to  and  fro  in  a  wicker  rocking- 
chair,  he  was  intently  conscious  of  Ruth's  white 
figure  perched  above  on  a  broad  window-sill. 

How  Mrs.  Levice  happened  to  broach  the  sub 
ject,  Ruth  never  knew,  but  she  was  quite  unprepared 
when  she  perceived  that  Kemp  was  addressing  her. 

"  I  should  like  to  show  my  prowess  to  you,  Miss 
Levice." 

"  In  what  ?  "  she  asked,  altogether  dazed. 

"  Ruth,  Ruth,"  laughed  her  mother,  "  do  you 
mean  to  say  you  haven't  heard  a  word  of  all  my 
glowing  compliments  on  your  rowing?  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  179 

"  And  I  was  telling  your  mother  that,  in  all  mod 
esty,  I  was  considered  a  fine  oar  at  my  Alma  Mater." 

"  And  I  hazarded  the  suggestion,"  added  Mrs. 
Levice,  "  that  as  it's  such  a  beautiful  night,  there's 
nothing  to  prevent  your  taking  a  little  row,  and 
then  each  can  judge  of  the  other's  boasted  superi 
ority." 

"  My  claim  has  never  been  really  established," 
said  Ruth.  "  I've  never  allowed  anyone  to  usurp 
my  oars." 

"As  yet,"  corrected  Kemp.  "Then  will  you 
wrap  something  about  you  and  come  down  to  the 
river?" 

"  Certainly  she  will,"  answered  her  mother ; 
"  run  in  and  get  some  wraps,  Ruth." 

"  Of  course  you  are  coming  too,  mamma?  " 

"  Of  course ;  but  considering  Dr.  Kemp's  length, 
a  third  in  your  little  boat  will  be  the  proverbial 
trumpery.  But  I  suppose  I  can  rely  on  you  two 
crack  oarsmen,  though  you  know  the  slightest  trem 
ble  in  the  boat  in  the  fairest  weather  is  likely  to 
create  a  squall  on  my  part." 

If  Dr.  Kemp  wished  to  row,  he  should  row;  and 
since  the  Jewish  Mrs.  Grundy  was  not  on  hand, 
anything  harmlessly  enjoyable  was  permissible, 
reasoned  Mrs.  Levice. 

Ruth  went  indoors.     This  was  certainly  some- 


180  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

thing  she  had  not  bargained  for.  How  could  her 
mother  be  so  blind  as  not  to  know  or  feel  her  desire 
to  evade  Dr.  Kemp  ?  She  felt  a  wild  contempt  for 
herself  that  his  presence  should  affect  her  as  it  did; 
yet  she  dared  not  look  at  him  lest  her  heart  should 
flutter  to  her  eyes.  Probably  the  display  flattered 
him.  What  was  she  to  him  after  all  but  a  girl  with 
whom  he  could  flirt  in  his  idle  moments?  Well, 
with  a  passionate  flinging  out  of  her  arms,  she 
admonished  herself  to  control  the  swift  beating  of 
her  heart  —  surely  she  could  meet  and  answer  every 
one  of  his  long,  flirtatious  glances  in  the  same  spirit. 

She  threw  a  black  lace  scarf  over  her  hair  and, 
with  some  wraps  for  her  mother,  came  out. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  put  something  over  your 
shoulders?  "  he  asked  deferentially  as  she  appeared. 

"  And  disgust  the  night  with  lack  of  apprecia 
tion  ?" 

She  turned  to  a  corner  of  the  porch  and  lifted  a 
pair  of  oars  to  her  shoulder. 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed  in  surprise,  coming  toward 
her,  "  you  keep  your  oars  at  home?  " 

"  On  the  principle  of  '  neither  a  borrower  nor  a 
lender  be.'  We  find  it  saves  both  time  and  spleen." 

She  held  them  lightly  in  place  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Let  me  have  them,"  he  said,  placing  his  hand 
upon  the  oars. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  181 

A  spirit  of  contradiction  took  possession  of  her. 

"  Indeed,  no,"  she  answered,  "  why  should  I  ? 
They're  not  at  all  heavy." 

He  gently  lifted  her  resisting  fingers  one  by  one 
and  raised  the  broad  bone  of  contention  to  his 
shoulder.  Then,  without  a  look  for  her  caprice,  he 
turned  and  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Levice. 

The  crickets  chirped  in  the  hedges ;  now  and  then 
a  firefly  flashed  before  them;  the  trees  seemed 
wrapped  in  silent  awe  at  the  majesty  of  the  bewil 
dering  heavens.  As  they  approached  the  river,  the 
faint  susurra  came  to  them,  mingled  with  the  sound 
of  a  guitar  and  someone  singing  in  the  distance. 

"  Others  are  enjoying  themselves  too,"  he  re 
marked  as  their  feet  touched  the  pebbly  beach.  A 
faint  crescent  moon  shone  over  the  water.  Ruth 
went  straight  to  the  little  boat  aground  on  the 
shore. 

"  It  looks  like  a  cockle-shell,"  he  said,  as  he  put 
one  foot  in  after  shoving  it  off.  "  Will  you  sit  in 
the  stern  or  the  bow,  Mrs.  Levice  ?  " 

"  In  the  bow;  I  dislike  to  see  dangers  before  we 
come  to  them." 

He  helped  her  carefully  to  her  place ;  she  thanked 
him  laughingly  for  his  exceptionally  strong  support, 
and  he  turned  to  Ruth. 

"  I    was    waiting    for    you    to   move    from   my 


182  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

place,"  she  said  in  defiant  mischief,  standing  motion 
less  beside  the  boat. 

'  Your  place?  Oh,  yes.  Now,"  he  said,  holding 
out  his  hand  to  her,  "  will  you  step  in  ?  " 

She  took  his  hand  and  stepped  in ;  they  were  both 
standing,  and  as  the  little  bark  swayed  he  made  a 
movement  to  catch  hold  of  her. 

'*  You  had  better  sit  down,"  he  said,  motioning 
to  the  rower's  seat. 

"And  you?"  she  asked. 

"  I'll  sit  beside  you  and  use  the  other  oar,"  he 
answered  nonchalantly,  smiling  into  her  eyes. 

With  a  half-pleased  feeling  of  discomfiture,  Ruth 
seated  herself  in  the  stern,  whereupon  Kemp  sat  in 
the  contested  throne. 

"  You'll  have  to  excuse  my  turning  my  back  on 
you,  Mrs.  Levice,"  he  said  pleasantly.  "  The  oars 
man's  seat  imposes  it." 

"  That's  no  hindrance  to  my  volubility,  I'm  glad 
to  say ;  a  back  isn't  very  inspiring  or  expressive,  but 
Ruth  can  tell  me  when  you  look  bored,  if  I  wax  too 
discursive." 

It  was  a  tiny  boat,  and  seated  thus  Kemp's  knees 
were  not  half  a  foot  from  Ruth's  white  gown. 

"Will  you  direct  me?"  he  said,  as  he  swept 
around.  "  I  haven't  rowed  on  this  river  for  two  or 
three  years." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  183 

"  You  can  keep  straight  ahead  for  some  distance," 
she  said,  leaning  back  in  her  seat. 

She  could  not  fail  to  notice  the  easy  motion  of 
his  body  as  he  rowed  lightly  down  the  stream.  His 
flannel  shirt,  low  at  the  throat,  showed  his  throat, 
rising  firm  and  strong  above  his  broad  shoulders, 
and  his  dark  face  with  the  steady  gray  eyes  looked 
across  at  her  with  grave  sweetness.  She  would 
have  been  glad  enough  to  be  able  to  turn  from  the 
short  range  of  vision  between  them;  but  the  stars 
and  river  afforded  her  good  vantage-ground,  and 
upon  them  she  fixed  her  gaze. 

Mrs.  Levice  was  in  bright  spirits,  and  seemed 
striving  to  outdo  the  night  in  brilliancy.  For  a 
while  Kemp  maintained  a  sort  of  Roland-for-an- 
Oliver  conversation  with  her ;  but,  with  his  eyes  con 
tinually  straying  to  the  girl  before  him,  it  soon 
became  spasmodic.  Some  merry  rowers  down  the 
river  were  singing  college  songs  harmoniously,  and 
Mrs.  Levice  began  to  hum  with  them,  her  voice 
gradually  subsiding  into  a  faint  murmur.  The 
balmy,  summer-freighted  air  made  her  drowsy. 
She  listened  absently  to  Ruth's  occasional  warnings 
to  Kemp,  and  to  the  swift,  responsive  dip  of  the 
oars. 

"  Now  we  have  clear  sailing  for  a  stretch,*'  said 
Ruth,  as  they  came  to  a  broad  curve.  "  Did  you 


184  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

think  you  were  going  to  be  capsized  when  we  shot 
over  that  snag,  mamma  ?  " 

She  leaned  farther  forward,  looking  past  Kemp. 

"Mamma!" 

Then  she  straightened  herself  back  in  her  seat. 
Kemp,  noting  the  stiffening  of  her  figure,  turned 
halfway  to  look  at  Mrs.  Levice.  Her  head  was  lean 
ing  against  the  flag-staff;  her  eyes  were  closed.  In 
the  manner  of  more  wary  chaperones  —  Mrs.  Levice 
slept. 

He  moved  quietly  back  to  his  former  position. 

Far  across  the  river  a  woman's  silvery  voice  was 
singing  the  ever-sweet  old  love-song,  "  Juanita  " ; 
overhead,  the  golden  crescent  moon  hung  low  from 
the  floor  of  heaven  pulsating  with  stars.  It  was  a 
passionate,  tender  night,  and  Ruth,  with  her  face 
raised  to  the  holy  beauty,  was  a  beautiful  part  of 
it.  Against  the  black  lace  about  her  head  her  face 
shone  like  a  cameo,  her  eyes  were  dreamy  wells  of 
starlight;  she  scarcely  seemed  to  breathe,  so  still 
she  sat,  her  slender  hands  loosely  clasped  in  her  lap. 

Dr.  Kemp  sat  opposite  her  —  and  Mrs.  Levice 
slept. 

Slowly  and  more  slowly  sped  the  tiny  boat ;  long, 
gentle  strokes  touched  the  water;  and  presently  the 
oars  lay  idle  in  their  locks  —  they  were  uncon 
sciously  drifting.  The  water  dipped  and  lapped 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  185 

about  the  sides;  the  tender  woman's  voice  across 
the  water  stole  to  them,  singing  of  love;  their  eyes 
met  —  and  Mrs.  Levice  slept. 

Ever,  in  the  after  time,  when  Ruth  heard  that 
song,  she  was  again  rocking  in  the  frail  rowboat 
upon  the  lovely  river,  and  a  man's  deep,  grave  eyes 
held  hers  as  if  they  would  never  let  them  go,  till, 
under  his  worshipping  eyes,  her  own  filled  with  slow, 
ecstatic  tears. 

"  Doctor,"  called  a  startled  voice,  "  row  out;  I'm 
right  under  the  trees." 

They  both  started.  Mrs.  Levice  was,  without 
doubt,  awake.  They  had  drifted  into  a  cove,  and 
she  was  cowering  from  the  overhanging  boughs. 

"  I  don't  care  to  be  Absalomed.  Where  were 
your  eyes,  Ruth  ?  "  she  complained  sleepily,  as  Kemp 
pushed  out  with  a  happy,  apologetic  laugh.  "  Didn't 
you  see  where  we  were  going?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  girl  a  little  breathlessly. 
"  I  believe  I'm  growing  —  far-sighted." 

"  It  must  be  time  to  sight  home  now,"  said  her 
mother;  "I'm  dreadfully  chilly." 

In  five  minutes  Kemp  had  grounded  the  boat  and 
helped  Mrs.  Levice  out.  When  he  turned  for  Ruth, 
she  had  already  sprung  ashore  and  started  up  the 
slope.  For  the  first  time  the  oars  lay  forgotten  in 
the  bottom  of  the  boat. 


186  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Wait  for  us,  Ruth,"  called  Mrs.  Levice,  and  the 
slight  white  figure  stood  still  till  they  came  up. 

"  You're  so  slow,"  she  said  with  a  reckless  little 
laugh.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  could  fly  home." 

"  Star-struck,  Ruth?  "  asked  her  mother,  but  the 
girl  had  fallen  behind  them.  She  could  not  yet 
meet  his  eyes  again. 

"  Come,  Ruth,  either  stay  with  us  or  just  ahead 
of  us."  Mrs.  Levice,  awake,  was  an  exemplary 
duenna. 

"  There's  nothing  abroad  here  but  the  stars,"  she 
answered,  flitting  before  them. 

"  And  they  are  stanch,  silent  friends  —  on  such 
a  night,"  remarked  Kemp,  softly. 

She  kept  before  them  till  they  reached  the  gate 
and  was  standing  inside  of  it  as  they  drew  near. 

"  Then  you  won't  be  home  till  Monday,"  he  said, 
taking  Mrs.  Levice's  hand  and  raising  his  hat;  "  and 
I'm  off  on  the  early  morning  train.  Good-bye." 

As  she  turned  in  at  the  gate,  he  held  out  his  hand 
to  Ruth.  His  fingers  closed  softly,  firmly,  over 
hers;  she  heard  him  say  meaningly,  though  almost 
inaudibly  — 

"  Till  Monday." 

She  raised  her  shy  eyes  for  one  brief  second  to 
his  glowing  ones,  and  he  passed,  a  tall,  dark  figure, 
down  the  shadowy  road. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  187 

When  Mr.  Levice  returned  from  his  game  of 
whist  he  quietly  opened  the  door  of  his  daughter's 
bedroom  and  looked  in.  All  was  well;  the  wolf 
had  departed,  and  his  lamb  slept  safe  in  the  fold. 

But  in  the  dark  his  lamb's  eyes  were  mysteriously 
bright.  Sleep!  With  this  new  crown  upon  her! 
Humble  as  the  beautiful  beggar-maid  felt  when  the 
king  raised  her,  she  wondered  why  she  had  been 
thus  chosen  by  one  whom  she  had  held  immeasur 
ably  above  her.  She  was  only  Ruth  Levice,  a  little, 
unknown  girl  —  while  he !  And  this  is  another 
phase  of  woman's  love  —  it  exalts  the  beloved 
beyond  all  measure.  It  never  studies  proportion. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AT  six  o'clock  the  hills  in  their  soft  carpet  of 
dull  browns  and  greens  were  gently  warming 
under  the  sun's  first  rays.  At  seven  the  early  train 
which  Dr.  Kemp  purposed  taking  would  leave. 
Ruth,  with  this  knowledge  at  heart,  had  noiselessly 
risen  and  left  the  cottage.  Close  behind  the  depot 
rose  a  wooded  hill.  She  had  often  climbed  it  with 
the  Tyrrell  boys,  and  what  wras  to  prevent  her  doing 
so  now?  It  afforded  an  excellent  view  of  the 
station. 

It  was  very  little  past  six,  and  she  leisurely  began 
to  ascend  the  hill.  The  sweet  morning  air  \vas  in 
her  nostrils,  and  she  pushed  the  broad  hat  from 
her  happy  eyes.  She  paused  a  moment,  looking  up 
at  the  wooded  hilltop,  which  the  sun  was  jeweling 
in  silver. 

:c  What  do  you  see  so  beautiful  up  there?  " 

With  an  uncontrollable  cry  she  wheeled  about  and 
faced  Dr.  Kemp  within  a  hand's-breadth  of  her. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  stepping  back  with  burning 
cheeks,  "  I  didn't  mean  —  I  didn't  expect  —  " 

188 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  189 

"  Nor  did  I,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  Chance  is 
kinder  to  us  than  ourselves  —  beloved." 

She  turned  quite  white  at  the  low,  intense  endear 
ment. 

"  You  understood  me  last  night  —  and  I  wasn't 
—  self -deceived?" 

Her  head  drooped  lower  till  the  broad  brim  of 
her  hat  hid  her  face. 

With  a  quick  step  he  stood  close  beside  her. 

"  Ruth,  look  at  me." 

She  never  had  been  able  to  resist  his  compelling 
voice,  and  now  with  a  swift-drawn  breath  she  threw 
back  her  head  and  looked  up  at  him  fairly,  all  her 
soul  in  her  eyes. 

"  Well,  are  you  satisfied?  "  she  asked  tremulously. 

"  Not  yet."  With  one  movement  he  had  drawn 
her  to  him  and  his  lips  claimed  hers. 

"  Santa  Filomena,"  he  murmured,  tenderly  push 
ing  back  her  hat,  his  cheek  against  her  hair,  "  this 
is  worth  a  lifetime  of  waiting.  Oh,  Ruth,  Ruth,  my 
sweet!" 

In  his  close  embrace  her  face  was  hidden;  she 
hardly  dared  meet  his  eyes  when  he  finally  held  her 
from  him. 

"  Why,  you're  not  afraid  to  look  at  me?  No  one 
in  the  world  knows  you  better  than  I,  dear.  You 
can  trust  me,  I  think." 


190  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

11 1  know/'  she  said,  her  hands  fluttering  in  his. 
"  But  isn't  —  the  train  coming?  " 

"  So  anxious  to  have  me  go  ?  " 

Her  fingers  wound  themselves  tightly  about  his. 

"  Because  "  —  he  drew  her  close  again  —  "I 
have  something  to  ask  you." 

"To  ask  me?" 

"  Yes ;  you're  not  surprised,  surely  you  can 
guess  ?  Ruth,  will  you  bless  me  still  further  ?  Will 
you  be  my  wife?  " 

A  great  thrill  took  her;  his  voice  had  assumed  a 
bewildering  tenderness.  "If  you  really  want  me," 
she  managed  to  say,  with  a  sobbing  laugh. 

"Soon?"  he  persisted. 

"Why?" 

"  Because  —  I  need  you.  You'll  find  me  a  tyrant 
in  love,  Ruth." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  you." 

"  Then  you  should  be.  Think,  child,  I'm  an  old 
man,  already  thirty-five.  Did  you  remember  that 
when  you  made  me  king  among  men  ?  " 

"  Then  I'm  an  old  lady  —  I  am  twenty-two." 

"  As  ancient  as  that  ?  Then  you  should  be  able 
to  answer  me.  Make  it  soon,  sweetheart." 

"  Why,  how  you  beg  —  for  a  king.  Besides, 
there's  father,  you  know;  he  decides  everything 
for  me." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  191 

"  I  know ;  and  I've  already  asked  him  —  in  writ 
ing.  There's  a  note  waiting  for  him  at  the  hotel; 
you'll  see  I  took  a  great  deal  for  granted  last  night, 
and  —  Ah,  the  whistle !  What  day  is  this,  Ruth  ?  " 

"  Friday." 

"  Good  Friday,  sweet,  I  think." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  at  all  superstitious." 

"  And  Monday  is  four  days  off ;  well,  it  must 
make  up  for  all  we  lose.  Monday  will  be  four  days 
rolled  into  one. 

"  Remember,"  he  continued  hurriedly,  "  you're 
doubly  precious  now,  and  take  good  care  of  yourself 
until  I  have  you  safe  again." 

"  And  —  and  —  you  will  remember  that  for  me 
too,  d-doctor  ?  " 

"Who?" 

"  Herbert." 

"  God  bless  you  for  that,  dear !  "  he  whispered  in 
passionate  farewell. 

Mr.  Levice,  sleepily  turning  on  his  pillow,  heard 
the  whistle  of  the  out-going  train  with  benignant 
satisfaction.  It  was  taking  Dr.  Kemp  where  he 
belonged  —  to  his  busy  practice  —  and  leaving  his 
child's  peace  undisturbed.  Confound  the  man  any 
way!  he  mused;  what  had  possessed  him  to  drop 
down  upon  them  in  that  unexpected  manner  and 
rob  Ruth  of  her  appetite  and  happy  talk?  No  doubt 


192  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

she  had  been  flattered  by  the  interest  he  had  shown 
in  her;  but  he  was  too  old  and  too  dignified  a  man 
to  resort  to  flirtation,  and  anything  deeper  was  out 
of  the  question.  He  must  certainly  have  a  little 
plain  talk  with  the  child  that  morning,  and  —  well, 
he  could  cry  "  Ebenezer ! "  upon  his  departure. 
With  this  conclusion  he  softly  rose,  taking  care  not 
to  disturb  his  placidly  sleeping  wife  who  never 
dreamed  of  waking  till  nine. 

The  morning,  serenely  beautiful,  greeted  him,  and 
as  he  wandered  over  to  the  hotel,  the  serenity  of  the 
young  day  caught  him  as  into  a  sudden  haven  of 
dreamy  security  and,  yielding  to  its  charm,  all  sense 
of  disturbance  fell  from  him  while  his  eye  uncon 
sciously  sought  its  daily  thrill  —  the  sight  of  his 
child. 

Ruth  generally  waited  for  him  for  breakfast,  but 
not  seeing  her  around,  he  went  in  and  took  a  soli 
tary  meal.  Sauntering  out  afterward  toward  the 
hotel  porch,  his  hat  on,  his  stick  under  his  arm, 
busily  lighting  a  cigar,  he  was  met  at  the  door  of 
the  billiard-room  by  one  of  the  clerks. 

"  Dr.  Kemp  left  this  for  you  this  morning,"  said 
he,  holding  out  a  small  envelope.  A  flush  rose  to 
the  old  gentleman's  sallow  cheek  as  he  took  it. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said ;  "  I  believe  I'll  come  in 
here  for  a  few  minutes." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  193 

He  passed  by  the  clerk  and  seated  himself  in  a 
deep,  cane-bottomed  chair  near  the  window.  He 
fumbled  for  the  cord  of  his  glasses  in  a  slightly 
nervous  manner,  and  adjusted  them  hastily.  The 
missive  was  addressed  to  him,  certainly;  and  with 
no  little  wonder  he  tore  the  envelope  open  and  read : 

BEACHAM'S,  Friday  morning. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  LEVICE  —  Pardon  the  hurried  nature  of 
this  communication,  but  I  must  leave  shortly  on  the 
in-coming  train,  having  an  important  operation  to  under 
take  this  morning  —  otherwise  I  should  have  liked  to 
prepare  you  more  fully,  but  time  presses.  Simply,  then,  I 
love  your  daughter.  I  told  her  so  last  night  upon  the 
river,  and  she  has  made  me  the  proudest  and  happiest  of 
men  by  returning  my  love.  I  am  well  aware  what  I  am 
asking  of  you  when  I  ask  you  to  let  her  be  my  wife.  You 
know  me  personally;  you  know  my  financial  standing;  I 
trust  you  will  remember  my  failings  with  mercy,  in  the 
knowledge  of  our  great  love.  Till  Monday  night,  then,  I 
leave  her  and  my  happiness  to  your  consideration  and  love. 
With  the  greatest  respect,  dear  sir, 
Yours  sincerely, 

HERBERT  KEMP. 

"My  God!" 

The  clerk  standing  near  him  in  the  doorway 
turned  hurriedly. 

"Any  trouble?"  he  asked,  moving  toward  him 
and  noticing  the  ashy  pallor  of  his  face. 

The  old  man's  hand  closed  spasmodically  over  the 
paper. 


194  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Nothing,"  he  managed  to  answer,  waving  the 
man  away;  "  don't  notice  me." 

The  clerk,  seeing  his  presence  was  undesirable, 
took  up  his  position  in  the  doorway  again. 

Levice  sat  on.  No  further  sound  broke  from 
him ;  he  had  clinched  his  teeth  hard.  It  had  come  to 
this,  then.  She  loved  him;  it  was  too  late.  If  the 
man's  heart  alone  were  concerned,  it  would  have 
been  an  easy  matter;  but  hers,  Ruth's  —  God!  If 
she  really  loved,  her  father  knew  only  too  well  how 
she  would  love.  Was  the  man  crazy?  Had  he 
entirely  forgotten  the  gulf  which  lay  between  them? 
Great  drops  of  perspiration  rose  to  his  forehead. 
Two  ideas  held  him  in  a  desperate  struggle  —  his 
child's  happiness;  the  prejudice  of  a  lifetime. 
Something  conquered  finally,  and  he  arose  quietly 
and  walked  off. 

Through  the  trees  he  heard  laughter.  He  walked 
round  and  saw  her  swinging  Will  Tyrrell. 

"  There's  your  father,"  cried  Boss,  from  the  limb 
of  a  tree. 

She  looked  up,  startled.  With  a  newborn  shy 
ness  she  had  endeavored  to  put  off  this  meeting  with 
her  father.  She  gave  the  swing  another  push  and 
waited  his  approach  with  beating  heart. 

"  The  boys  will  excuse  you,  Ruth,  I  think ;  I 
would  like  you  to  come  for  a  short  walk  with  me." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  195 

At  his  voice,  the  gentle  seriousness  of  which  pene 
trated  even  to  the  Tyrrell  boys'  understanding,  she 
felt  that  her  secret  was  known. 

She  laid  her  arm  about  his  neck  and  gave  him  his 
usual  morning  kiss,  reddening  slowly  under  his  long, 
searching  look  as  he  held  her  to  him.  She  followed 
him  almost  blindly  as  he  turned  from  the  grounds 
and  struck  into  the  lane  leading  to  the  woods.  Mr. 
Levice  walked  along,  aimlessly  knocking  off  with 
his  stick  the  dandelions  and  camomile  in  the  hedges. 
It  was  with  a  wrench  he  spoke. 

"  My  child,"  he  said,  and  now  the  stick  acted  as  a 
support,  "  I  was  just  handed  a  note  from  Dr.  Kemp. 
He  has  asked  me  for  your  hand." 

In  the  pause  which  followed  Ruth's  lovely  face 
was  hidden  in  her  hat. 

"  He  also  told  me  that  he  loves  you,"  he  con 
tinued  slowly,  "  and  that  you  return  his  love.  Will 
you  turn  your  face  to  me,  Ruth  ?  " 

She  did  so  with  dignity. 

"  You  love  this  man  ?  " 

"  I  do."  As  reverently  as  if  at  the  altar,  she 
faced  and  answered  her  father.  All  her  love  was  in 
the  eyes  she  raised  to  his.  Beneath  their  happy 
glow  Levice's  sank  and  his  steady  lips  grew  pale. 

They  were  away  from  mankind  in  the  shelter  of 
the  woods,  birds  caroling  their  matins  above  them. 


196  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  And  you  wish  to  become  his  wife?  " 

Neck,  face,  and  ears  were  suffused  with  color  as 
she  faltered  unsteadily  — 

"  Oh,  father,  we  love  each  other."  Then,  at  the 
wonder  of  it,  she  exclaimed,  throwing  her  arms 
impetuously  about  his  neck  and  hiding  her  face  in 
his  shoulder,  "  I  am  so  happy,  so  happy !  it  seems 
almost  too  beautiful  to  be  true." 

The  old  man's  trembling  hand  smoothed  back  the 
soft  tendrils  of  hair  which  had  escaped  from  under 
her  hat,  stifling  a  groan  as  he  was  thus  disarmed. 

"  And  what,"  she  asked,  her  sweet  eyes  holding 
his  as  she  drew  back,  "  what  do  you  think  of  Her 
bert  Kemp,  M.  D.  ?  Will  you  be  proud  of  your 
son-in-law,  father  darling?  " 

Levice's  hand  fell  suddenly  upon  her  shoulder. 
He  schooled  himself  to  smile  quietly  upon  her. 

"  Dr.  Kemp  is  a  great  friend  of  mine.  He  is  a 
gentleman  whom  all  the  world  honors,  not  only  for 
his  professional  worth,  but  for  his  manly  qualities. 
I  am  not  surprised  that  you  love  him,  nor  yet  that 
he  loves  you  —  except  for  one  thing." 

"And  that?"  she  asked,  smiling  confidently  at 
him. 

"  Child,  you  are  a  Jewess.  Dr.  Kemp  is  a 
Christian." 

And  still  his  daughter  smiled  trustingly. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  197 

"  What  difference  can  that  make,  since  we  love 
each  other  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Will  you  believe  me,  Ruth,  when  I  say  that  all 
I  desire  is  your  happiness  ?  " 

"  I  know  that,  father." 

"  Then  I  tell  you  I  can  never  bring  myself  to 
approve  of  a  marriage  between  you  and  a  Christian. 
There  can  be  no  true  happiness  in  such  a  union." 

"  Wrhy  not?  Inasmuch  as  all  my  life  you  have 
taught  me  to  look  upon  my  Christian  friends  as  upon 
my  Jewish,  and  since  you  admit  him  irreproachable 
from  every  standpoint,  why  can't  he  be  my  hus 
band?" 

"  Have  you  ever  thought  of  what  such  a  marriage 
entails?" 

"  Never." 

"  Then  do  so  now :  think  of  every  sacrifice,  social 
and  religious,  it  enforces;  think  of  the  great  dif 
ference  between  the  Jewish  race  and  traditions,  and 
the  Christian ;  and  if,  after  you  have  measured  with 
the  deadliest  earnestness  every  duty  that  married 
life  brings,  you  can  still  believe  that  you  will  be 
happy,  then  marry  him." 

"With  your  blessing?"  Her  lovely,  pleading 
eyes  still  held  his. 

"Always  with  my  blessing,  child.  One  thing  more : 
did  Dr.  Kemp  mention  anything  of  this  to  you  ?  " 


198  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  No ;  he  must  have  forgotten  it  as  I  did,  or 
rather,  if  I  ever  thought  of  it,  it  was  a  mere  passing 
shadow.  I  put  it  aside  with  the  thought  that,  though 
you  and  I  had  never  discussed  such  a  circumstance, 
judging  by  all  your  other  actions  in  our  relations 
with  Christians,  you  would  be  above  considering 
such  a  thing  a  serious  obstacle  to  two  people's  hap 
piness." 

"  You  see,  when  it  comes  to  action,  my  broad 
views  dwindle  down  to  detail,  and  I  am  only  an  old 
man  with  old-fashioned  ideas.  However,  I  shall 
remind  Dr.  Kemp  of  this  grave  consideration,  and 
then  —  you  will  not  object  to  this?*' 

"  Oh,  no;  but  I  know  —  I  know  —  "  What  did 
she  know  except  of  the  greatness  of  his  love  which 
would  annihilate  all  her  father's  forebodings? 

"  Yes,"  her  father  answered  the  half -spoken 
thought ;  "  I  know  too.  But  ponder  this  well,  as  I 
shall  insist  on  his  doing;  then,  on  Monday  night, 
when  you  have  both  satisfactorily  answered  to  each 
other  every  phase  of  this  terrible  difference,  I  shall 
have  nothing  more  to  say." 

Love  is  so  selfish.  Ruth,  hugging  her  happiness, 
failed,  as  she  had  never  failed  before,  to  mark  the 
wearied  voice,  pale  face,  and  sad  eyes  of  her  father. 

"  Your  mother  will  soon  be  awake,"  he  said, 
"  hadn't  you  better  go  back?  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  199 

Something  she  had  expected  was  wanting  in  this 
meeting ;  she  looked  at  him  reproachfully,  her  mouth 
visibly  trembling. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  asked  gently. 

"  Why,  father,  you're  so  cold  and  hard,  and  you 
haven't  even  —  " 

"  Wait  till  Monday  night,  Ruth.  Then  I  will  do 
anything  you  ask  me.  Now  go  back  to  your  mother, 
but  understand,  not  a  word  of  this  to  her  yet.  I 
shall,  not  recur  to  this  again.  Meanwhile  we  shall 
both  have  something  to  think  of." 

That  afternoon  Dr.  Kemp  received  the  following 
brief  note: 

BEACHAM'S,  Aug.  25,  189 — . 

DEAR  DR.  KEMP  —  Have  you  forgotten  that  my  daugh 
ter  is  a  Jewess;  that  you  are  a  Christian?  Till  Monday 
night  I  shall  expect  you  to  consider  this  question  from 
every  possible  point  of  view.  If  then  both  you  and  my 
daughter  can  satisfactorily  override  the  many  objections 
I  undoubtedly  hold,  I  shall  raise  no  obstacle  to  your 
desires. 

Sincerely  your  friend, 

JULES  LEVICE. 

In  the  meantime  Ruth  was  thinking  it  all  out. 
Love  was  blinding  her,  dazzling  her ;  and  the  giants 
which  rose  before  her  were  dwarfed  into  pigmies,  at 
which  she  tried  to  look  gravely,  but  succeeded  only 
in  smiling  at  their  feebleness.  Love  was  an  Ar- 


200  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

mada,  and  bore  down  upon  the  little  armament 
thought  called  up,  and  rode  it  all  to  atoms. 

Small  wonder,  then,  that  on  their  return  on  Mon 
day  morning,  as  little  Rose  Delano  stood  in  Ruth's 
room  looking  up  into  her  friend's  face,  the  dreamy, 
starry  eyes,  the  smiles  which  crept  in  thoughtful 
dimples  about  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  the  whole 
air  of  a  mysterious  something,  baffled  and  bewil 
dered  her. 

Upon  Ruth's  writing-table  rested  a  basket  of 
delicate  Marechal  Niel  buds,  almost  veiled  in  ten 
der  maiden-hair;  the  anonymous  sender  was  not 
unknown. 

"  It  has  agreed  well  with  you,  Miss  Levice,"  said 
Rose,  in  her  gentle,  patient  voice,  which  seemed  so 
at  variance  with  her  young  face.  '*  You  look  as  if 
you  had  been  dipped  in  a  love-elixir." 

"  So  I  have,"  laughed  Ruth,  her  hand  straying  to 
the  velvety  buds ;  "  and  it  has  made  a  '  nut-brown 
mayde  '  of  me,  hasn't  it,  Rosebud  ?  But  tell  me  the 
city  news.  Everything  in  running  order?  Tell  me." 

"  Everything  is  as  your  kind  help  has  willed  it. 
I  have  a  pleasant  little  room  with  a  middle-aged 
couple  on  Post  Street.  Altogether  I  earn  ten  dol 
lars  over  my  actual  monthly  expenses.  Oh,  Miss 
Levice,  when  shall  I  be  able  to  make  you  understand 
how  deeply  grateful  I  am?  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  201 

"  Never,  Rose ;  believe  me,  I  never  could  under 
stand  deep  things;  that  is  why  I'm  so  happy." 

"  You're  teasing  now,  with  that  mischievous  light 
in  your  eyes.  Yet  the  first  time  I  saw  your  face  I 
thought  that  either  you  had  or  would  have  a  his 
tory." 

"  Sad?  "  The  sudden  poignancy  of  the  question 
startled  Rose. 

She  looked  quickly  up  at  her  to  note  if  she  were 
as  earnest  as  her  voice  sounded.  The  dark  eyes 
smiled  daringly,  defiantly,  at  her. 

"  I'm  no  sorceress,"  she  answered  evasively  but 
lightly ;  "  look  in  the  glass  and  see." 

"  You  remind  me  of  Floy  Tyrrell  —  Pooh !  Let's 
talk  of  something  else.  Then  it  can't  be  Wednes 
days?" 

"  It  can  be  any  day.  The  Page  children  can  have 
Friday." 

"  Do  you  know  how  Mr.  Page  is?  " 

"  Didn't  you  hear  of  the  great  operation  he  — 
Dr.  Kemp  —  performed  Friday?  " 

"  No."  She  could  have  shaken  herself  for  the 
tell-tale,  inevitable  rush  of  blood  overspreading  her 
face.  If  Rose  saw,  she  made  no  sign;  she  had  had 
one  lesson. 

"  I  didn't  know  such  a  thing  was  in  his  line.  It 
was  done  right  there  at  the  house.  I  had  been  giv- 


202  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

ing  Miss  Dora  a  lesson  in  the  nursery.  The  old 
nurse  had  brought  the  two  little  ones  in  there,  and 
kept  us  all  on  tenter-hooks  running  in  and  out.  One 
of  the  doctors,  Wells,  I  think  she  said,  had  fainted ; 
it  was  a  very  delicate  and  dangerous  operation. 
When  my  lesson  was  over,  I  slipped  quietly  out.  I 
was  passing  through  the  corridor  when  Dr.  Kemp 
came  out  of  one  of  the  rooms.  He  was  quite  pale. 
He  recognized  me  immediately,  and  though  I  wished 
to  pass  straight  on,  he  stopped  me  and  shook  my 
hand  so  very  friendly.  And  now  I  hear  it  was  a 
great  success.  Oh,  Miss  Levice,  he  has  no  parallel 
but  himself !  " 

It  did  not  sound  exaggerated  to  Ruth  to  hear  him 
thus  extolled.  It  was  only  very  sweet  and  true. 

"  I  knew  just  what  he  must  be  when  I  first  saw 
him,"  the  girl  babbled  on;  "  that  was  why  I  went  to 
him.  I  knew  he  was  a  doctor  by  his  carriage,  and 
his  strong,  kind  face  was  my  only  inspiration.  But 
there,  you  must  forgive  me  if  I  tire  you;  you  see 
he  sent  you  to  me." 

"  You  can't  tire  me,  Rose,"  she  said  gravely. 
And  the  same  expression  rested  upon  her  face  till 
evening. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MONDAY  night  had  come.  As  Ruth  half  hid 
a  pale-yellow  bud  in  her  heavy,  low-coiled 
hair,  the  gravity  of  her  mien  seemed  to  deepen. 
This  was  partially  the  result  of  her  father's  expres 
sive  countenance  and  voice.  If  he  had  smiled,  it 
had  been  such  a  faint  flicker  that  it  was  forgotten 
in  the  look  of  repression  which  had  followed.  In 
the  afternoon  he  had  spoken  a  few  disturbing  words 
to  her : 

"  I  have  told  your  mother  that  Dr.  Kemp  is  com 
ing  to  discuss  a  certain  project  and  desires  your 
presence.  She  intends  to  go  to  bed  early,  and  there 
is  nothing  to  prevent  your  receiving  him." 

At  the  distantly  courteous  tone  she  raised  a  pair 
of  startled  eyes.  He  was  regarding  her  patiently, 
as  if  awaiting  some  remark. 

"  Surely  you  don't  want  me  to  be  present  at  this 
interview  ? "  she  questioned,  her  voice  slightly 
trembling. 

"  Not  only  that,  but  I  want  your  most  earnest 
attention  and  calm  reasoning  powers  to  be  brought 

203 


204  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

with  you.  You  have  not  forgotten  what  I  told  you 
to  consider,  Ruth?" 

"  No,  father." 

She  felt,  though  in  a  greater  degree,  as  she  had 
often  felt  in  childhood,  when,  in  taking  her  to  task 
for  some  naughtiness,  he  had  worn  this  same  sad 
and  distant  look.  He  had  never  punished  her  nom 
inally;  the  pain  he  himself  showed  had  always 
affected  her  as  the  severest  reprimand  never  could 
have  done. 

She  looked  like  a  peaceful,  sweet- faced  nun  in 
her  simple  white  gown,  which  fell  in  long,  straight 
folds  to.  her  feet;  not  another  touch  of  color  was 
upon  her. 

A  calmness  pervaded  her  whole  person  as  she 
paced  the  softly  lighted  drawing-room  and  waited 
for  Kemp. 

When  he  was  shown  into  the  room,  her  tranquil 
lity  struck  him  immediately. 

She  stood  quite  still  as  he  came  toward  her. 
Without  doubt  he  had  some  old-time  manners,  for, 
first  of  all,  he  raised  her  hand  in  reverence  to  his 
lips.  The  curious,  well-known  flush  rose  slowly  to 
her  sensitive  face  at  the  action.  When  he  had 
caught  her  swiftly  to  him,  a  long  sigh  escaped  her. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  asked,  drawing  her  down  to  a 
seat  beside  him.  "  Tired  of  me  already,  love?  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  205 

"  Not  of  you ;  of  waiting,"  she  said,  half-shyly 
meeting  his  look. 

"  I  hardly  hoped  for  this  moment,"  he  said  after 
a  pause.  "  Has  your  father  flown  bodily  from  the 
enemy  and  left  you  to  face  him  alone  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  But  it  really  was  kind  of  him  to 
keep  away  for  a  while,  wasn't  it?"  she  asked 
naively. 

"  It  was  surprisingly  kind.  But  I  suppose  you 
will  have  to  make  your  exit  on  his  entrance." 

"  No,"  she  laughed  softly,  "  I  am  going  to  play 
the  role  of  audience  tonight.  He  expressly  wants 
me  to  stay.  But  if  you  differ  —  " 

He  looked  at  her  curiously.  The  earnestness  with 
which  she  had  greeted  him  settled  like  a  mask  upon 
his  face.  The  hand  which  held  hers  drew  it  quickly 
to  his  breast. 

"  I  think  it's  well  that  you  stay,"  he  said,  "  be 
cause  we  agree  at  any  rate  on  the  main  point  — 
that  we  love  each  other.  Always  that,  darling?  " 

"  Always  that  —  love." 

The  low,  sweet  voice  which,  for  the  first  time,  so 
caressed  him  thrilled  him  madly,  but  a  measured 
step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  and  Ruth  moved  like  a 
bird  to  a  chair.  He  could  not  know  that  the  sound 
of  the  step  had  given  her  the  momentary  courage  to 
address  him  thus. 


206  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

He  arose  deferentially  as  Levice  entered.  The 
two  men  formed  a  striking  contrast.  Kemp  stood 
tall,  stalwart,  straight  as  an  arrow ;  Levice,  with  his 
short  stature,  his  stooping  shoulders,  and  his  silvery 
hair  falling  about  and  softening  somewhat  his  plain 
Jewish  face,  served  as  a  foil  to  the  other's  bright, 
handsome  address. 

Kemp  came  forward  to  meet  him  and  grasped 
his  hand.  Nothing  is  more  thoroughly  expressive 
than  this  cordial  shaking  of  hands  between  men. 
It  is  a  freemasonry  which  women,  in  their  careless 
hand-touch,  lack,  and  are  the  losers  thereby.  The 
kiss  is  a  sign  of  emotion;  the  hand-clasp  bespeaks 
strong  esteem  or  otherwise.  Levice's  hand  closed 
tightly  about  the  doctor's ;  there  was  a  great  feeling 
of  mutual  respect  between  these  two. 

"  How  are  you  and  your  wife?"  asked  the  doc 
tor,  seating  himself  in  a  low  easy-chair  as  Levice 
took  one  opposite  him. 

"  She  is  well,  but  tired  this  evening,  and  has  gone 
to  bed.  She  asked  to  be  remembered  to  you."  As 
he  spoke,  he  half  turned  his  head  to  where  Ruth 
sat  in  a  corner,  a  little  removed. 

"  Why  do  you  sit  back  there,  Ruth  ?  " 

She  arose,  and  seeing  no  other  convenient  seat  at 
hand,  drew  up  the  low,  high-backed  ebony  chair. 
Thus  seated,  they  formed  the  figure  of  an  isosceles 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  207 

triangle,  with  Ruth  at  the  apex,  the  men  at  the 
angles  of  the  base.  It  is  a  rigid  outline,  the  isosceles, 
bespeaking  each  point  an  alien  from  the  others. 

There  was  an  uncomfortable  pause  for  some 
moments  after  she  had  seated  herself,  during  which 
Ruth  noted  how,  as  the  candlelight  from  the  sconce 
behind  fell  upon  her  father's  head,  each  silvery  hair 
seemed  to  speak  of  quiet  old  age. 

Kemp  was  the  first  to  speak,  and,  as  usual,  came 
straight  to  the  point. 

"  Mr.  Levice,  there's  no  use  disguising  or  beat 
ing  around  the  bush  the  thought  uppermost  in  all 
our  minds.  I  ask  you  now,  in  person,  what  I  asked 
you  in  writing  last  Friday  —  will  you  give  me  your 
daughter  to  be  my  wife?  " 

"  I  will  answer  you  as  I  did  in  writing.  Have 
you  considered  that  you  are  a  Christian ;  that  she  is 
a  Jewess?  " 

"  I  have." 

It  was  the  first  gun  and  the  answering  shot  of  a 
strenuous  battle. 

"  And  you,  my  child  ?  "  he  addressed  her  in  the 
old  sweet  way  which  she  had  missed  in  the  aft 
ernoon. 

"  I  have  also  done  so  to  the  best  of  my  ability/' 

"  Then  you  have  found  it  raised  no  barrier  to 
your  desire  to  become  Dr.  Kemp's  wife?  " 


208  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  None." 

The  two  men  drew  a  deep  breath  at  the  sound 
of  the  little  decisive  word,  but  writh  a  difference. 
Kemp's  face  shone  exultantly.  Levice  pressed  his 
lips  hard  together  as  a  shuddering  breath  left  him ; 
his  heavily-veined  hands  were  tightly  clinched ;  when 
he  spoke,  however,  his  voice  was  quite  peaceful. 

"  It  is  an  old  and  just  custom  for  parents  to  be 
consulted  by  their  children  upon  their  choice  of 
husband  or  wife.  In  France  the  parents  are  con 
sulted  before  the  daughter;  it  is  not  a  bad  plan. 
It  often  saves  some  unnecessary  pangs  —  for  the 
daughter.  I  am  sorry  in  this  case  that  we  are  not 
living  in  France." 

"Then  you  object?"  Kemp  almost  hurled  the 
words  at  him. 

"  I  crave  your  patience,"  answered  the  old  man, 
slowly ;  "  I  have  grown  accustomed  to  doing  things 
deliberately,  and  will  not  be  hurried  in  this  instance. 
But  as  you  have  put  the  question,  I  may  answer  you 
now.  I  do  most  solemnly  and  seriously  object." 

Ruth,  sitting  intently  listening  to  her  father,  paled 
slowly.  The  doctor  also  changed  color. 

"  My  child,"  Levice  continued,  looking  her 
sadly  in  the  face,  "  by  allowing  you  to  fall  blindly 
into  this  trouble,  without  warning,  with  my  appar 
ent  sanction  for  any  relationship  with  Christians, 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  209 

I  have  done  you  a  great  wrong;  I  admit  it  with 
anguish.  I  ask  your  forgiveness." 

"Don't,  father!" 

Dr.  Kemp's  clinched  hand  came  down  with  force 
upon  his  knee.  He  was  white  to  the  lips,  for  though 
Levice'  spoke  so  quietly,  a  strong  decisiveness  rang 
unmistakably  in  every  word. 

"  Mr.  Levice,  I  trust  I'm  not  speaking  disrespect 
fully,"  he  began,  his  full  voice  plainly  agitated, 
"  but  I  must  say  that  it  was  a  great  oversight  on 
your  part  when  you  threw  your  daughter,  equipped 
as  she  is,  into  Christian  society  —  put  her  right  in 
the  \vay  of  loving  or  being  loved  by  any  Christian, 
knowing  all  along  that  such  a  state  of  affairs  could 
lead  to  nothing.  It  wasn't  only  wrong  —  holding 
such  views,  it  was  cruel." 

"  I  acknowledge  my  culpability ;  my  only  excuse 
lies  in  the  fact  that  such  an  event  never  presented 
itself  as  a  possibility  to  my  imagination.  If  it  had, 
I  should  probably  have  trusted  that  her  own  Jewish 
conscience  and  bringing-up  would  protest  against 
her  allowing  herself  to  think  seriously  upon  such  an 
issue." 

"  But,  sir,  I  don't  understand  your  exception ; 
you  are  not  orthodox." 

"  No ;  but  I  am  intensely  Jewish,"  answered  the 
old  man,  proudly  regarding  his  antagonist.  "  I  tell 


210  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

you  I  object  to  this  marriage;  that  is  not  saying  I 
oppose  it.  There  are  certain  things  connected  with 
it  of  which  neither  you  nor  my  daughter  have  prob 
ably  thought.  To  me  they  are  all-powerful  obstacles 
to  your  happiness.  Being  an  old  man  and  more 
experienced,  will  you  permit  me  to  suggest  these 
points?  My  friend,  I  am  seeking  nothing  but  my 
child's  happiness;  if,  by  opening  the  eyes  of  both 
of  you  to  what  menaces  her  future  welfare,  I  can 
avert  what  promises  but  a  sometime  misery,  I  must 
do  it,  late  though  it  may  be.  If,  when  I  have  stated 
my  view,  you  can  convince  me  that  I  am  wrong,  I 
shall  be  persuaded  and  admit  it.  Will  you  accept 
my  plan  ?  " 

Kemp  bowed  his  head.  The  dogged  earnestness 
about  his  mouth  and  eyes  deepened;  he  kept  his 
gaze  steadily  and  attentively  fixed  upon  Levice. 
Ruth,  the  beloved  cause  of  the  whole  painful  scene, 
seemed  remote  and  shadowy. 

"  As  you  say,"  began  Levice,  "  we  are  not  ortho 
dox;  but  before  we  become  orthodox  or  reformed, 
we  are  born,  and  being  born,  we  are  invested  with 
certain  hereditary  traits  that  are  unconvertible. 
Every  Jew  bears  in  his  blood  the  glory,  the  triumph, 
the  misery,  the  abjectness  of  Israel.  The  farther  we 
move  in  the  generations,  the  fainter  grows  the  inher 
itance.  In  most  countries,  in  these  times,  the  abject- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  211 

ness  is  vanishing;  we  have  been  set  upon  our 
feet;  we  have  been  allowed  to  walk;  we  are  begin 
ning  to  smile  —  that  is,  some  of  us.  Those  whose 
fathers  were  helped  on  are  nearer  the  man  as  he 
should  be  than  those  whose  fathers  are  still  grovel 
ing.  My  child,  I  think,  stands  a  perfect  type  of 
what  freedom  and  culture  can  give.  She  is  not  an 
exception;  there  are  thousands  like  her  among  our 
Jewish  girls.  Take  any  intrinsically  pure-souled 
Jew  from  his  coarser  surroundings  and  give  him  the 
highest  advantages,  and  he  will  stand  forth  the 
equal,  at  least,  of  any  man;  but  he  could  not  mix 
forever  with  pitch  and  remain  undefiled." 

"  No  man  could/'  observed  Kemp,  as  Levice 
paused.  "  But  what  are  these  things  to  me  ?  " 

"Nothing;  but  to  Ruth,  much.  That  is  part  of 
the  bar-sinister  between  you.  Possibly  your  sense 
of  refinement  has  never  been  offended  in  my  family ; 
but  there  are  many  families,  people  we  visit  and 
love,  who,  though  possessing  all  the  substrata  of 
goodness,  have  never  been  moved  to  cast  off  the 
surface  distinctions  which  would  prick  your  good 
taste  as  sharply  as  any  physical  pain.  This,  of 
course,  is  not  because  they  are  Jews,  but  because 
they  lack  refining  influences  in  their  surroundings. 
We  look  for  and  excuse  these  signs;  many  Chris 
tians  take  them  as  the  inevitable  marks  of  the  race, 


212  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

and  without  looking  further,  conclude  that  a 
socially-desirable  Jew  is  an  impossibility." 

"  Mr.  Levice,  I  am  only  an  atom  in  the  Christian 
world,  and  you  who  number  so  many  of  them  among 
your  friends  shouldn't  make  such  sweeping  asser 
tions.  The  world  is  narrow-minded;  individuals 
are  broader." 

"  True;  but  I  speak  of  the  majority,  who  decide 
the  vote,  and  by  whom  my  child  would  be,  without 
doubt,  ostracized.  This  only  by  your  people;  by 
ours  it  would  be  worse  —  for  she  will  have  raised 
a  terrible  barrier  by  renouncing  her  religion." 

"  I  shall  never  renounce  my  religion,  father." 

"  Such  a  marriage  would  mean  only  that  to  the 
world;  and  so  you  would  be  cut  adrift  from  both 
sides,  as  all  women  are  who  move  from  where  they 
rightfully  belong  to  where  they  are  not  wanted." 

"  Sir,"  interrupted  Kemp,  "  allow  me  to  show 
you  wherein  such  a  state  of  affairs  would,  if  it 
should  happen,  be  of  no  consequence.  The  friends 
we  care  for  and  who  care  for  us  will  not  drop  off  if 
we  remain  unchanged.  Because  I  love  your  daugh 
ter  and  she  loves  me,  and  because  we  both  wish  our 
love  to  be  honored  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man, 
how  have  we  erred  ?  We  shall  still  remain  the  same 
man  and  woman." 

"  Unhappily  the  world  would  not  think  so." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  213 

"  Then  let  them  hold  to  their  bigoted  opinion ; 
it's  valueless,  and  having  each  other,  we  can  dispense 
with  them!  " 

"  You  speak  in  the  heat  of  passion ;  and  at  such 
a  time  it  would  be  impossible  to  make  you  under 
stand  that  the  honeymoon  of  life  is  made  up  of 
more  than  two,  and  a  third,  being  inimical,  can 
make  it  wretched.  The  knowledge  that  people  we 
respect  hold  aloof  from  us  is  bitter." 

"  But  such  knowledge,"  interrupted  Ruth's  low 
voice,  "  would  be  robbed  of  all  bitterness  when  sur- 
' rounded  and  hedged  in  by  all  that  we  love." 

Her  father  looked  in  surprise  at  the  brave  face 
raised  so  earnestly  to  his. 

"  Very  well,"  he  responded ;  "  count  the  world  as 
nothing.  You  have  just  said,  my  Ruth,  that  you 
would  not  renounce  your  religion.  How  could  that 
be  when  you  have  a  Christian  husband  who  would 
not  renounce  his  ?  " 

"I  should  hope  he  would  not;  I  should  have 
little  respect  for  any  man  who  would  give  up  his 
sacred  convictions  because  I  have  come  into  his  life. 
As  for  my  religion,  I  am  a 'Jewess,  and  will  die  one. 
My  God  is  fixed  and  unalterable;  He  is  one  and 
indivisible ;  to  divide  His  divinity  would  be  to  deny 
His  omnipotence.  He  is  the  potential  perfection 
in  all  humanity.  As  to  forms,  you,  father,  have 


214  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

bred  in  me  a  contempt  for  all  but  a  few.  Saturday 
will  always  be  my  Sabbath,  no  matter  what  conven 
tion  would  make  me  do.  We  have  decided  that 
writing  or  sewing  or  pleasuring,  since  it  hurts  no 
one,  is  no  more  a  sin  on  that  day  than  on  another; 
to  sit  with  idle  hands  and  gossip  or  slander  is  more 
so.  But  on  that  day  my  heart  always  holds  its  Sab 
bath.  But  all  this  is  the  force  of  custom.  Any  day 
would  do  as  well  if  we  were  used  to  it  —  for  who 
can  tell  which  was  the  first  and  which  the  seventh 
counting  from  creation?  On  our  New  Year  I 
should  still  feel  that  a  holy  cycle  of  time  had  passed  ; 
but  I  live  only  according  to  one  record  of  time,  and 
my  New  Year  falls  always  on  the  first  of  January. 
Atonement  is  a  sacred  day  to  me ;  I  could  not  dese 
crate  it.  Our  services  are  magnificently  beautiful, 
and  I  should  feel  like  a  culprit  if  debarred  from 
their  holiness.  As  to  fasting,  you  and  I  have  agreed 
that  any  physical  punishment  which  keeps  our 
thoughts  one  moment  from  God,  and  puts  them  on 
the  feast  that  is  to  come,  is  mere  sham  and  vanity. 
After  these,  father,  wherein  does  our  religion  show 
itself?" 

"  Surely,"  he  replied  with  some  bitterness,  "  we 
hold  few  Jewish  rites.  Well,  and  so  you  think  you 
can  keep  these  up  ?  And  you,  Dr.  Kemp  ?  " 

Dr.  Kemp  had  been  listening  attentively  while 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  215 

Ruth  spoke.  His  eyes  kindled  brightly  as  he 
answered : 

"Why  should  she  not?  If  all  her  orisons  have 
made  her  as  beautiful,  body  and  soul,  as  she  is  to 
me,  what  is  to  prevent  her  from  so  continuing?  And 
if  my  wife  would  permit  me  to  go  with  her  upon 
her  holidays  to  your  beautiful  Temple,  no  one  would 
listen  more  reverently  than  I.  Loving  her,  what 
she  finds  worshipful  could  find  nothing  but  respect 
in  me." 

Plainly  Mr.  Levice  had  forgotten  the1  wellspring 
which  was  to  enrich  their  lives;  but  he  perceived 
that  an  impregnable  armor  encased  them  which 
made  every  shot  of  his  harmless. 

"  I  can  understand,"  he  ventured,  "  that  no  gen 
tleman  with  self-respect  would,  at  least  outwardly, 
show  disrespect  for  any  person's  religion.  You, 
doctor,  might  even  come  to  regard  with  awe  a  faith 
which  has  withstood  everything  and  has  never  yet 
been  sneered  at,  however  its  followers  have  been 
persecuted.  Many  of  its  minor  forms  are  slowly 
dying  out  and  will  soon  be  remembered  only  his 
torically;  this  history  belongs  to  everyone." 

"  Certainly.  Let  us,  however,  stick  to  the  point 
in  question.  You  are  a  man  who  has  absorbed  the 
essence  of  his  religion,  and  cast  off  most  of  its 
unnecessary  externals.  You  have  done  the  same 


216  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

for  my  —  for  your  daughter.  This  distinguishes 
you.  If  I  were  to  say  the  characteristic  has  never 
been  unbeautiful  in  my  eyes,  I  should  be  excusing 
what  needs  no  excuse.  Now,  sir,  I,  in  turn,  am  a 
Christian  —  broadly  speaking ;  more  formally,  a 
Unitarian.  Our  faiths  are  not  widely  divergent. 
We  are  both  liberal ;  otherwise  marriage  between  us 
might  be  a  grave  experiment.  As  to  forms,  for  me 
they  are  a  show,  but  for  many  they  are  a  necessity 
—  a  sort  of  moral  backbone  without  which  they 
might  fall.  Sunday  is  to  me  a  day  of  rest,  if  my 
patients  do  not  need  me.  I  enjoy  hearing  a  good 
sermon  by  any  noble,  broad-minded  man,  and  when 
I  go  to  church  I  go  not  only  for  that,  but  for  the 
pleasure  of  having  my  spiritual  tendencies  given  a 
gentle  stirring  up.  There  is  one  holiday  that  I  keep 
and  love  to  keep.  That  is,  Christmas." 

"  And  I  honor  you  for  it;  but  loving  this  day  of 
days,  looking  for  sympathy  for  it  from  all  you 
meet,  how  will  it  be  when  in  your  own  home  the 
wife  whom  you  love  above  all  others  stands  coldly 
by  and  watches  your  emotions  with  no  answering 
sympathy?  Will  this  not  breed  dissension,  if  not 
in  words,  at  least  in  spirit?  Will  you  not  feel  the 
want  and  resent  it?  " 

Kemp  was  silent.  The  question  was  a  telling 
one,  and  required  thought;  therefore  he  was  sur- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  217 

prised  when  Ruth  answered  for  him.  Her  quiet 
voice  carried  no  sense  of  hysteric  emotion,  but  one 
of  grave  grace. 

She  addressed  her  father;  each  had  refrained 
from  appealing  to  the  other.  The  situation  in  the 
light  of  their  new,  great  love  was  strained  and 
unnatural. 

"  I  should  endeavor  that  he  should  feel  no  lack," 
she  said,  "  for,  so  far  as  Christmas  is  concerned,  I 
am  a  Christian  also." 

"  I  do  not  understand."  Her  father's  lips  were 
dry,  his  voice  husky. 

"  Ever  since  I  have  been  able  to  judge,"  explained 
the  girl,  quietly,  "  Christ  has  been  to  me  the  love 
liest  and  one  of  the  best  men  that  ever  lived.  You 
yourself,  father,  honor  and  reverence  his  life." 

'  Yes?  "  His  eyes  were  half  closed  as  if  in  pain ; 
he  motioned  to  her  to  continue. 

"  And  so,  in  our  study,  he  was  never  anything  but 
what  was  great  and  good.  Later,  when  I  had  read 
his  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount/  I  grew  to  see  that  what 
he  preached  was  beautiful.  It  did  not  change  my 
religion;  it  made  me  no  less  a  Jewess  in  the  true 
sense,  but  surely  it  helped  me  to  gentleness.  To  me 
he  became  the  embodiment  of  Love  in  the  highest  — 
Love  perfect,  though  warm  and  human;  human 
Love  so  glorious  that  it  needs  no  divinity  to  aug- 


218  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

ment  its  power  over  us.  He  was  God's  attestation, 
God's  symbol  of  what  Man  might  be.  As  a  teacher 
of  brotherly  love,  he  is  sublime.  So  I  may  call 
myself  a  Christian,  though  I  spell  it  with  a  small 
letter.  It  is  right  that  such  a  man's  birthday 
should  be  remembered  with  love;  it  shows  what  a 
sweet  power  his  name  is,  when,  as  that  time  ap 
proaches,  everybody  seems  to  love  everybody  bet 
ter.  Feeling  so,  would  it  be  wrong  for  me  to  par 
ticipate  in  my  husband's  actions  on  that  day  ?  " 

She  received  no  answer.  She  looked  only  at  her 
father  with  loving  earnestness,  and  the  look  of 
adoration  Kemp  bent  upon  her  was  quite  lost. 

"  Would  this  be  wrong,  father?  "  she  urged. 

He  straightened  himself  in  his  chair  as  if  under 
a  load.  His  dark,  sallow  face  seemed  to  have  grown 
worn  and  more  haggard. 

"  I  have  always  imagined  myself  just  and  liberal 
in  opinion,"  he  responded;  "  I  have  sought  to  make 
you  so.  I  never  thought  you  could  leap  so  far.  It 
were  better  had  I  left  you  to  your  mother.  Wrong? 
No;  you  would  be  but  giving  your  real  feelings 
expression.  But  such  an  expression  would  grieve 
• —  Pardon  —  I  am  to  consider  your  happiness." 
He  seemed  to  swallow  something,  and  hastily  con 
tinued  : 

"  While  we  are  still  on  this  subject,  are  you 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  219 

aware,  my  child,  that  you  could  not  be  married  by 
a  Jewish  rabbi  ?  " 

She  started  perceptibly. 

"  I  should  love  to  be  married  by  Doctor  C ." 

As  she  pronounced  the  distinguished  old  rabbi's 
name,  a  tone  of  reverential  love  accompanied  it. 

"  I  know.  But  you  would  have  to  take  a  justice 
as  a  substitute." 

"  A  Unitarian  minister  would  be  breaking  no  law 
in  uniting  us,  and  I  think  would  not  object  to  do  so ; 
that  is,  of  course,  if  you  had  no  objection."  The 
doctor  looked  at  him  questioningly.  Levice  an 
swered  by  turning  to  Ruth.  She  passed  her  hand 
over  her  forehead. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  asked,  "  that,  after  a  cere 
mony  had  been  performed,  Dr.  C would  bless 

us?  As  a  friend,  would  he  have  to  refuse?  " 

"  He  would  be  openly  sanctioning  a  marriage 
which,  according  to  the  rabbinical  law,  is  no  mar 
riage  at  all.  Do  you  think  he  would  do  this,  not 
withstanding  his  friendship  for  you?  "  returned  her 
father.  They  both  looked  at  him  intently. 

"  Ah,  well,"  she  answered,  throwing  back  her 
head,  a  half-smile  coming  to  her  pale  lips,  "  it's 
only  a  sentiment,  and  I  could  forego  it,  I  suppose. 
One  must  give  up  little  things  sometimes  for  great." 

"  Yes ;  and  this  would  be  only  the  first.     My  chil- 


220  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

dren,  there  is  something  ineradicably  wrong  when 
we  have  to  overlook  and  excuse  so  much  before 
marriage.  '  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil 
thereof ; '  and  why  should  we  add  trouble  to  days 
already  burdened  before  they  come?  " 

"  We  should  find  all  this  no  trouble,"  said  Kemp; 
"  and  what  is  to  trouble  us  after  ?  We  have  now 
the  wherewithal  for  our  happiness.  What,  in  God's 
name,  do  you  ask  for  more?  " 

"  As  I  have  said,  Dr.  Kemp,  we  are  an  earnest 
people.  Marriage  is  a  step  not  entered  into  lightly. 
Divorce,  for  this  reason,  is  seldom  heard  of  with  us, 
and  for  this  reason  we  have  few  unhappy  mar 
riages.  We  know  what  we  have  to  expect  from 
every  quarter.  No  question  I  have  put  would  be 
necessary  with  a  Jew.  His  ways  are  ours,  and,  with 
few  exceptions,  a  woman  has  nothing  but  happiness 
to  expect  from  him.  How  am  I  sure  of  this  with 
you?  In  a  moment  of  anger  this  difference  of  faith 
may  be  flung  in  each  other's  teeth,  and  what  then?  " 

"  You  mean  you  cannot  trust  me." 

The  quiet,  forceful  words  were  accompanied  by 
no  sign  of  emotion.  His  deep  eyes  rested  as  re 
spectfully  as  ever  upon  the  old  gentleman's  face. 
But  the  attack  was  a  hard  one  upon  Levice.  A  vein 
on  his  temple  sprang  into  blue  prominence  as  he 
quickly  considered  his  answer. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  221 

"  I  trust  you,  sir,  as  one  gentleman  would  trust 
another  in  any  undertaking;  but  I  have  not  the  same 
knowledge  of  what  to  expect  from  you  as  I  should 
have  from  any  Jew  who  would  ask  for  my  daugh 
ter's  hand." 

"  I  understand  that,"  admitted  the  other;  "  but  a 
few  minutes  ago  you  imputed  a  possibility  to  me 
that  would  be  an  impossibility  to  any  gentleman. 
You  may  have  heard  of  such  happenings  among 
some,  but  an  event  of  that  kind  would  be  as  removed 
from  us  as  the  meeting  of  the  poles.  Everything 
depends  on  the  parties  concerned." 

"  Besides,  father,"  added  Ruth,  her  sweet  voice 
full  with  feeling,  "  when  one  loves  greatly,  one  is 
great  through  love.  Can  true  married  love  ever  be 
divided  and  sink  to  that?  " 

The  little  white-and-gold  clock  ticked  on;  it  was 
the  only  sound.  Levice's  forehead  rested  upon  his 
hand  over  which  his  silvery  hair  hung.  Kemp's 
strong  face  was  as  calm  as  a  block  of  granite;  Ruth's 
was  pale  with  thought. 

Suddenly  the  old  man  threw  back  his  head.  They 
both  started  at  the  revelation:  great  dark  rings 
were  about  his  eyes ;  his  mouth  was  set  in  a  strained 
smile. 

"I  —  I,"  he  cleared  his  throat  as  if  something 
impeded  his  utterance  —  "I  have  one  last  sugges- 


222  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

tion  to  make.  You  may  have  children.  What  will 
be  their  religion?  " 

The  little  clock  ticked  on;  a  dark  hue  overspread 
Kemp's  face.  Ruth  scarcely  seemed  to  hear;  her 
eyes  were  riveted  upon  her  father's  changed  face. 

"Well?" 

The  doctor  gave  one  quick  glance  at  Ruth  and 
answered : 

"If  God  should  so  bless  us,  I  think  the  simple 
religion  of  love  enough  for  childhood.  Later,  as 
their  judgment  ripened,  I  should  let  them  choose 
for  themselves,  as  all  should  be  allowed." 

"And  you,  my  Ruth?" 

A  shudder  shook  her  frame;  she  answered 
mechanically : 

"  I  should  be  guided  by  my  husband." 

The  little  clock  ticked  on,  backward  and  forward, 
and  forward  and  back,  dully  reiterating,  "  Time 
flies,  time  flies." 

"  I  have  quite  finished,"  said  Levice,  rising. 

Kemp  did  likewise. 

"  After  all,"  he  said  deferentially,  "  you  have  not 
answered  my  question." 

"I  —  think  —  I  —  have,"  replied  the  old  man, 
slowly.  "  But  to  what  question  do  you  refer?  " 

"  The  simple  one  —  will  you  give  me  your 
daughter?" 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  223 

"  No,  sir;  I  will  not." 

Kemp  drew  himself  up,  bowed  low,  and  stood 
waiting  some  further  word,  his  face  ashy  white. 
Levice's  lips  trembled  nervously,  and  when  he  spoke 
it  was  in  a  gentle,  restrained  way,  half  apologetically 
and  in  strange  contrast  to  his  former  violence. 

'  You  see,  I  am  an  old  man  rooted  in  old  ideas; 
my  wife,  not  so  old,  holds  with  me  in  this.  I  do  not 
know  how  wildly  she  would  take  such  a  proposition. 
But,  Dr.  Kemp,  as  I  said  before,  though  I  object,  I 
shall  not  oppose  this  marriage.  I  love  my  daughter 
too  dearly  to  place  my  beliefs  as  an  obstacle  to  what 
she  considers  her  happiness;  it  is  she  who  will  have 
to  live  the  life,  not  I.  You  and  I,  sir,  have  been 
friends;  outside  of  the  one  great  difference  there  is 
no  man  to  whom  I  would  more  gladly  trust  my 
child.  I  honor  and  esteem  you  as  a  gentleman 
who  has  honored  my  child  in  his  love  for  her.  If 
I  have  hurt  you  in  these  bitter  words,  forgive  me; 
as  my  daughter's  husband,  we  must  be  more  than 
friends." 

He  held  out  his  hand.  The  doctor  took  it,  and 
holding  it  tightly  in  his,  made  answer  somewhat 
confusedly: 

"  Mr.  Levice,  I  thank  you.  I  can  say  no  more 
now,  except  that  no  son  could  love  and  honor  you 
more  than  I  shall." 


224  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Levice  bent  his  head,  and  turned  to  Ruth,  who 
sat,  without  a  movement,  looking  straight  ahead 
of  her. 

"  My  darling,"  said  her  father,  softly  laying  his 
hand  upon  her  head  and  raising  her  lovely  face,  "  if 
I  have  seemed  selfish  and  peculiar,  trust  me,  dear,  it 
was  through  no  lack  of  love  for  you,  Do  not  con 
sider  me;  forget,  if  you  will,  all  I  have  said.  You 
are  better  able,  perhaps,  than  I  to  judge  what  is  best 
for  you.  Since  you  love  Dr.  Kemp,  and  if,  after 
all  this  thought,  you  feel  you  will  be  happy  with 
him,  then  marry  him.  You  know  that  I  hold  him 
highly,  and  though  I  cannot  honestly  give  you  to 
him,  I  shall  not  keep  you  from  him.  My  child,  the 
door  is  open;  you  can  pass  through  without  my 
hand.  Good-night,  my  little  girl." 

His  voice  quavered  sadly  over  the  old-time  pet 
name  as  he  stooped  and  kissed  her.  He  wrung  the 
doctor's  hand  again  in  passing,  and  abruptly  turned 
to  leave  the  room.  It  was  a  long  room  to  cross. 
Kemp  and  Ruth  followed  with  their  eyes  the  small, 
slightly  stooped  figure  of  the  old  man  passing  slowly 
out  by  himself.  As  the  heavy  portiere  fell  into 
place  behind  him,  the  doctor  turned  to  Ruth,  still 
seated  in  her  chair. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

SHE  was  perfectly  still.  Her  eyes  seemed  gazing 
into  vacancy. 

"  Ruth,"  he  said  softly.  But  she  did  not  move. 
His  own  face  showed  signs  of  the  emotions  through 
which  he  had  passed,  but  was  peaceful  as  if  after  a 
long,  triumphant  struggle.  He  came  nearer  and  laid 
his  hand  gently  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Love,"  he  whispered,  "  have  you  forgotten  that 
I  am  here?" 

His  hand  shook  slightly,  but  Ruth  gave  no  sign 
that  she  saw  or  heard. 

"  This  has  been  too  much  for  you,"  he  said, 
drawing  her  head  to  his  breast.  She  lay  there  as 
if  in  a  trance,  her  eyes  closed,  her  face  lily-white 
against  him.  They  remained  in  this  position  for 
some  minutes  till  he  became  alarmed  at  her  passiv 
ity. 

"  You're  tired,  darling,"  he  said,  stroking  her 
cheek.  "Shall  I  go?" 

She  started  up  as  if  alive  to  his  presence  for  the 
first  time,  and  sprang  to  her  feet.  She  turned  giddy 

225 


226  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

and  swayed  toward  him.  He  caught  her  in  his 
arms. 

"  I'm  so  dizzy,"  she  laughed  in  a  broken  voice, 
looking  with  dry,  shining  eyes  at  him ;  "  hold  me 
for  a  minute." 

A  feeling  of  glad  surprise  took  him  as  she  clasped 
her  arms  around  his  neck;  Ruth  had  been  very  shy 
with  her  caresses. 

His  eyes  met  hers  in  a  long,  gripping  look. 

"  Of  what  are  you  thinking?  "  he  asked  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  There's  a  German  song  I  used  to  sing,"  she 
replied  musingly.  "  Will  you  think  me  very  foolish 
if  I  say  it  is  repeating*  itself  to  me  now,  over  and 
over  again  ?  " 

"  What  is  it,  dear?  "  he  asked,  humoring  her. 

"Do  you  understand  German?  Oh,  of  course, 
my  student;  but  this  is  a  sad  old  song;  students 
don't  sing  such  things.  These  are  some  of  the 
words:  '  Behilf  dich  Gott!  es  war  zu  schon  g ewe- 
sen.'  I  wish  —  " 

"  It's  a  miserable  song,"  he  said  lightly.  "  For 
get  it." 

She  disengaged  herself  from  his  arms  and  sat 
down.  Some  late  roisterers  passing  by  in  the  street 
were  heard  singing  to  the  twang  of  a  mandolin.  It 
was  a  full,  deep  song,  and  the  casual  voices  blended 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  227 

in  perfect  accord.  As  the  harmony  floated  out  of 
hearing,  she  looked  up  at  him  with  a  haunting 
smile. 

"  People  are  always  singing  to  us ;  I  wish  they 
wouldn't.  Music  is  so  sad ;  it's  like  a  heart-break." 

He  knelt  beside  her. 

"  You're  pale  and  tired,"  he  said;  "  and  I'm  going 
to  take  a  doctor's  privilege  and  send  you  to  bed. 
Tomorrow  you  can  answer  better  what  I  so  long 
to  hear.  You  heard  what  your  father  said:  your 
answer  rests  entirely  with  you.  Will  you  write,  or 
shall  I  come  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  answered,  her  eyes  burning 
in  her  pale  face,  "  you  have  very  pretty,  soft  dark 
hair?  Does  it  feel  as  soft  as  it  looks?  "  She  raised 
her  hand,  and  ran  her  fingers  lingeringly  through 
his  short,  thick  hair. 

"  Why,"  she  said  brightly,  "  here  are  some  silvery 
threads  on  your  temples.  Troubles,  darling?" 

"  You  shall  pull  them  out,"  he  answered,  drawing 
her  slender  hand  to  his  lips. 

"  There,  go  away,"  she  said  quickly,  snatching  it 
from  him  and  moving  from  her  chair  as  he  rose, 
She  rested  her  elbow  on  the  mantel-shelf,  and  the 
candles  from  the  silver  candelabra  shone  on  her 
face  —  it  looked  strained  and  weary.  Kemp's 
brows  gathered  in  a  frown  as  he  saw. 


228  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  I'm  going  this  minute,"  he  said,  "  and  I  want 
you  to  go  to  bed  at  once.  Don't  think  of  anything 
but  sleep.  Promise  me  you  will  go  to  bed  as  soon 
as  I  leave." 

"  Very  well." 

"  Good-night,  sweetheart,"  he  said,  kissing  her 
lingeringly.  "  Dream  happy  dreams."  He  stooped 
again  to  kiss  her  hands,  and  moved  toward  the 
door. 

"  Herbert!  "  His  hand  was  on  the  portiere,  and 
he  turned  in  alarm  at  her  raucous  call. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked,  taking  a  step  toward 
her. 

"  Nothing.  Don't  —  don't  come  back,  I  say.  I 
just  wanted  to  see  your  face.  I'll  write  to  you. 
Good-night." 

And  the  curtain  fell  behind  him. 

As  he  passed  down  the  gravel  walk,  a  coupe  drew 
up  and  stopped  in  front  of  the  house.  Louis  Arnold 
sprang  out.  The  two  men  came  face  to  face. 

Arnold  recognized  the  doctor  immediately  and 
drew  back.  When  Kemp  saw  who  it  was,  he  bowed 
and  passed  on.  Arnold  did  likewise,  but  he  went  in 
where  the  other  went  out. 

It  was  late,  after  midnight.  He  had  just  arrived 
on  a  delayed  southern  train.  He  knew  the  family 
had  come  home  that  morning.  Dr.  Kemp  was 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  229 

rather  early  in  making  a  visit ;  it  had  also  taken  him 
long  to  make  it. 

Louis  put  his  key  in  the  latch  and  opened  the 
door.  It  was  very  quiet ;  he  supposed  everyone  had 
retired.  He  flung  his  hat  and  overcoat  on  a  chair 
and  walked  toward  the  staircase.  As  he  passed  the 
drawing-room,  a  stream  of  light  came  from  beneath 
the  portiere.  He  hesitated  in  surprise  —  everything 
was  so  quiet.  Probably  the  last  one  had  forgotten 
to  put  out  the  lights.  He  stepped  noiselessly  up  and 
entered  the  room.  His  footfall  made  no  sound  on 
the  soft  carpet  as  he  moved  about  putting  out  the 
lights.  He  walked  to  the  mantel  to  blow  out  the 
candles,  but  stopped,  dumfounded,  within  a  foot  of 
it.  The  thing  that  disturbed  him  was  the  motionless 
white  form  of  his  cousin.  It  might  have  been  a 
marble  figure,  so  lifeless  she  sat,  though  her  face 
was  hidden  in  her  hands. 

For  a  moment  Arnold  was  terrified ;  but  the  feel 
ing  was  immediately  succeeded  by  one  of  exquisite 
pain.  He  was  a  man  not  slow  to  conjecture;  by 
some  intuition  he  understood. 

He  quickly  regained  his  presence  of  mind  and 
turned  quietly  to  quit  the  room;  he  hoped  she  had 
not  heard  him.  He  had  but  turned  when  a  low, 
moaning  sound  arrested  him.  He  came  back  irreso 
lutely. 


230  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"Did  you  call,  Ruth?" 

Silence. 

"  Ruth,  it  is  I,  Louis,  who  is  speaking  to  you.  Do 
you  know  how  late  it  is?  " 

With  gentle  force  he  drew  her  ringers  from  her 
face.  The  mute  misery  there  depicted  was  ap 
palling. 

"  Come,  go  to  bed,  Ruth,"  he  said  as  to  a  child. 

She  made  a  movement  to  rise,  but  sank  back 
again. 

"  I'm  so  tired,  Louis,"  she  pleaded  in  a  voice  of 
tears,  like  a  weary  child  indeed. 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  I  will  help  you."  The  un 
familiar,  gentle  quality  of  his  voice  penetrated  even 
to  her  numbed  senses. 

She  had  not  seen  him  since  the  night  he  had  asked 
her  to  be  his  wife.  No  remembrance  of  this  came 
to  her,  his  presence  held  only  something  very  rest 
ful.  She  allowed  him  to  draw  her  to  her  feet,  and 
as  calmly  as  a  brother  he  led  her  upstairs  and  into 
her  room.  Without  a  question  he  lit  the  gas  for  her. 

"  Good-night,  Ruth,"  he  said,  blowing  out  the 
match.  "  Go  right  to  bed ;  your  head  will  be  better 
by  morning." 

"  Thank  you,  Louis,"  she  said,  feeling  dimly 
grateful  for  something  his  words  implied.  "  Good 
night." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  231 

Arnold  noiselessly  closed  the  door  behind  him. 
She  quickly  locked  it  and  sat  down  in  the  nearest 
chair. 

Her  hands  were  interlaced  so  tightly  that  her  nails 
left  imprints  in  the  flesh.  She  had  something  to 
consider.  Oh  dear,  it  wras  such  a  simple  thing :  was 
she  to  break  her  father's  heart,  or  her  own  —  and 
—  his  ?  Her  father's  —  or  his  ? 

It  was  so  stupid  to  sit  and  repeat  it.  Surely  it  had 
been  decided  long  ago.  Such  a  long  time  ago,  when 
her  father's  loving  face  had  put  on  its  misery. 
Would  it  look  that  way  always  ?  No,  no,  no !  She 
would  not  have  it ;  she  dared  not ;  it  was  too  utterly 
wretched. 

Still,  there  was  someone  else,  at  the  thought  of 
whom  her  temples  throbbed  wildly.  It  would  hurt 
him;  she  knew  it.  The  thought  for  a  moment  was 
a  miserable  ecstasy.  For  he  loved  her  —  her,  simple 
Ruth  Levice  —  beyond  all  doubting  she  knew  he 
loved  her.  And,  oh,  father,  father,  how  she  loved 
him!  Why  must  she  give  it  all  up?  she  questioned 
fiercely.  Did  she  owe  no  duty  to  herself?  Was  she 
to  drag  out  all  the  rest  of  her  weary  life  without 
his  love?  Life !  It  would  be  a  lingering  death,  and 
she  was  young  yet  —  in  years.  Other  girls  had  mar 
ried  with  graver  obstacles,  in  open  rupture  with 
their  parents,  and  they  had  been  happy.  Why 


232  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

could  not  she?  It  was  not  as  if  he  were  at  fault; 
no  one  dared  breathe  a  word  against  his  fair  name. 
To  look  at  his  strong,  grave  face  meant  confidence. 
That  was  why,  when  he  left  the  room  — 

Someone  else  had  left  the  room  also.  Someone 
who  had  loved  her  all  her  life,  someone  who  had 
grown  accustomed  in  more  than  twenty  years  to 
listen  gladly  for  her  voice,  to  anticipate  every  wish, 
to  hold  her  as  in  the  palm  of  a  loving  hand,  to  look 
for  and  trust  in  her  unquestioned  love.  He,  too, 
had  left  the  room;  but  he  was  not  strong  and  hand 
some,  poor,  poor  old  father  with  his  small  bent 
shoulders.  What  a  wretched  thing  it  is  to  be  old 
and  have  the  heart-strings  that  have  so  confidently 
twisted  themselves  all  these  years  around  another 
rudely  cut  off  —  and  that  by  one's  only  child ! 

At  the  thought  an  icy  quiet  stole  over  her.  How 
long  she  sat  there,  musing,  debating,  she  did  not 
know.  When  the  gray  dawn  broke,  she  rose  up 
calmly  and  seated  herself  at  her  writing-table.  She 
wrote  steadily  for  some  time  without  erasing  a  sin 
gle  word.  She  addressed  the  envelope  without  a 
falter  over  the  name. 

"  That's  over,"  she  said  audibly  and  deliberately. 

A  cock  crowed.  It  was  the  beginning  of  another 
day. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DR.  KEMP  tossed  the  reins  to  his  man,  sprang 
from  his  carriage,  and  hurried  into  his  house. 
"Burke!"  he  called  while  closing  the  door, 
"  Burke !  "  He  walked  toward  the  back  of  the 
house  and  into  the  kitchen,  still  calling.  Finding  it 
empty,  he  walked  back  again  and  began  a  still  hunt 
about  the  pieces  of  furniture  in  the  various  rooms. 
Being  unsuccessful,  he  went  into  his  bedroom,  and 
a  few  minutes  later  hurried  again  to  the  kitchen. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Burke  ?  "  he  exclaimed  as 
that  spare-looking  personage  turned,  spoon  in  hand, 
from  the  range. 

"  Right  here,  General,"  he  replied  in  surprise, 
"  except  when  I  went  out." 

"  Well.     Did  any  mail  come  here  for  me?  " 

"  One  little  billy-do,  General.  I  put  it  under  your 
dinner-plate.  And  shall  I  serve  the  soup?"  The 
last  was  bellowed  after  his  master's  retreating  form. 

"  Wait  till  I  ring,"  he  called  back. 

He  lifted  his  solitary  plate,  snatched  up  the  little 
letter,  and  sat  down  hastily,  conscious  of  strong 
excitement. 

233 


234  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

His  name  and  address  stared  at  him  from  the 
white  envelope  in  a  round,  firm  hand.  There  was 
something  about  the  loop-letters  that  reminded  him 
of  her,  and  he  passed  his  hand  caressingly  over  the 
surface. 

He  did  not  break  the  seal  for  some  minutes  — 
anticipation  is  sometimes  sweeter  than  realization. 
Finally  it  was  done,  but  he  closed  his  eyes  for  a 
second  —  a  boyish  trick  of  his  that  had  survived, 
when  he  wished  some  expected  pleasure  to  spring 
suddenly  upon  him.  How  would  she  address 
him?  The  memory  of  their  last  meeting  gave  him 
courage,  and  he  opened  his  eyes.  The  denouement 
was  disconcerting.  Directly  under  the  tiny  white 
monogram  she  had  begun,  without  heading  of  any 
description : 

It  was  cruel  of  me  to  let  you  go  as  I  did:  you  were 
hopeful  when  you  left.  I  led  you  on  to  this  impression 
for  a  purely  selfish  reason.  After  all,  it  saved  you  the 
anguish  of  knowing  it  was  a  final  farewell;  for  even  then 
I  knew  it  could  never  be.  Never !  forever !  —  do  you 
know  the  meaning  of  those  two  long  words?  I  do.  They 
have  burned  themselves  irrevocably  into  my  brain.  Try 
to  understand  them  —  they  are  final. 

I  retract  nothing  that  I  said  to  my  father  in  your  pres 
ence.  You  know  exactly  how  I  still  consider  what  is 
separating  us.  I  am  wrong.  Only  /  am  causing  this  sep 
aration;  no  one  else  could  or  would.  Do  not  blame  my 
father.  If  he  were  to  see  me  writing  this  he  would  beg 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  235 

me  to  desist;  he  would  think  I  am  sacrificing  my  happi 
ness  for  him.  I  have  no  doubt  you  think  so  now.  Let 
me  try  to  make  you  understand  how  different  it  really  is. 
I  am  no  Jephthah's  daughter  —  he  wants  no  sacrifice,  and 
I  make  none.  Duty,  the  hardest  word  to  learn,  is  not  lead 
ing  me.  You  heard  my  father's  words;  but  not  holding 
him  as  I  do,  his  face  could  not  recoil  upon  your  heart  like 
a  death's  hand. 

I  am  trying  to  write  coherently  and  to  the  point:  see 
what  a  coward  I  am !  Let  me  say  it  now :  I  could  never 
be  happy  with  you.  Do  you  remember  Shylock  —  the  old 
man  who  withdrew  from  the  merry-making  with  a  break 
ing  heart?  I  could  not  make  merry  while  he  wept;  my 
heart  would  weep  also.  You  see  how  selfish  I  am;  I  am 
doing  it  for  my  own  sake,  and  for  no  one's  else. 

And  that  is  why  I  ask  you  now  to  forgive  me  —  because 
I  am  not  noble  enough  to  consider  you  when  my  happi 
ness  is  at  stake.  I  suppose  I  am  a  light  person,  seemingly 
to  play  thus  with  a  man's  heart.  If  this  reflection  can  rob 
you  of  regret,  think  me  so.  Does  it  sound  presumptuous 
or  ironical  for  me  to  say  I  shall  pray  you  may  be  happy 
without  me?  Well,  it  is  said  that  hearts  do  not  break  for 
love  —  that  is,  not  quickly.  If  you  will  just  think  of  what 
I  have  done,  surely  you  will  not  regret  your  release ;  you 
may  yet  find  a  paradise  with  some  other  and  better 
woman.  No,  I  am  not  harsh  or  unreasonable;  even  / 
expect  to  be  happy.  Why  should  not  you,  then  —  you,  a 
man;  I,  a  woman?  Forget  me.  In  your  busy,  full  life 
this  should  be  easy.  Trust  me,  no  woman  is  worthy  of 
spoiling  your  life  for  you. 

My  pen  keeps  trailing  on  —  like  summer  twilight  it  is 
loath  to  depart.  I  am  such  a  woman.  I  may  never  see 
your  face  again.  Will  you  not  forgive  me? 

RUTH. 


236  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

He  looked  up  with  a  bloodless  face  at  Burke 
standing  with  the  smoking  soup. 

"I  —  I  —  thought  you  had  forgotten  to  ring," 
the  man  stammered,  shocked  at  the  altered  face. 

"  Take  it  away,"  said  his  master,  hoarsely,  rising 
from  his  chair.  "  I  don't  want  any  dinner,  Burke. 
I'm  going  to  my  office,  and  must  not  be  disturbed." 

The  man  looked  after  him  with  a  sadly  wonder 
ing  shake  of  his  head,  and  went  back  to  his  more 
comprehensible  pots  and  pans. 

Kemp  walked  steadily  into  his  office,  lit  the  gas, 
and  sat  down  at  his  desk.  He  began  to  re-read  the 
letter  slowly  from  the  beginning.  It  took  a  long 
time,  for  he  read  between  the  lines.  A  deep  groan 
escaped  him  as  he  laid  it  down.  It  was  written  as 
she  would  have  spoken ;  he  could  see  the  expression 
of  her  face  in  the  written  words,  and  a  miserable, 
empty  feeling  of  powerlessness  came  upon  him.  He 
did  not  blame  her  —  how  could  he,  with  that  sad 
evidence  of  her  breaking  heart  before  him?  He  got 
up  and  paced  the  floor  unconscious  of  time.  His 
head  was  throbbing,  and  a  cold,  sick  feeling  almost 
overpowered  him. 

The  words  of  the  letter  repeated  themselves  — 
"  Paradise  with  some  other,  better  woman  "  —  she 
might  have  left  that  out,  he  thought  with  a  dreary 
smile,  she  knew  better ;  she  was  only  trying  to  cheat 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  237 

herself.  "I  too  shall  be  happy."  Not  that,  not 
some  other  man's  wife !  —  the  thought  was  infernal. 
He  caught  his  reflection  in  the  glass  in  passing.  "  I 
must  get  out  of  this,"  he  laughed  with  dry,  parched 
lips.  He  seized  his  hat  and  went  out.  The  wind 
was  blowing  stiffly.  For  hours  he  wrestled  with  it, 
and  then  came  home  and  wrote  to  her : 

I  can  never  forgive  you;  love's  litany  holds  no  such 
word.  Be  happy  if  you  can,  my  Santa  Filomena ;  it  will 
help  me  much  —  the  fact  that  you  are  somewhere  in  the 
world  and  not  desolate  will  make  life  more  worth  the 
living.  If  it  will  strengthen  you  to  know  that  I  shall 
always  love  you,  the  knowledge  will  be  eternally  true. 
Wherever  you  are,  whatever  the  need,  remember  —  I  am 
at  hand. 

HERBERT  KEMP. 

Mr.  Levice's  face  was  more  haggard  than  Ruth's 
when,  after  this  answer  was  received,  she  came  to 
him  with  a  gentle  smile,  despite  the  heavy  shadows 
around  her  eyes. 

"  It's  all  over,  father/'  she  said.  "  We  have 
parted  forever.  Perhaps  I  did  not  love  him  enough 
to  give  up  so  much  for  him.  At  any  rate  I  shall  be 
happier  with  you,  dear." 

"  Are  you  sure,  my  darling  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure ;  and  there's  no  more  to  be  said  about 
it.  Remember,  it's  dead  and  buried ;  we  must  never 


238  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

remind  each  other  of  it  again.     Kiss  me,  father, 
and  forget  that  it  has  been." 

Mr.  Levice  drew  a  long  sigh,  partly  of  relief, 
partly  of  pain,  as  he  looked  into  her  lovely,  resolute 
face. 


CHAPTER  XX 

WE    do    not    live    wholly    through    ourselves. 
What  is  called  fate  is  but  the  outcome  of  the 
spinning  of  other  individuals  twisted  into  the  woof 
of  our  own  making;  so  no  life  may  be  judged  as  a 
unit. 

Ruth  Levice  was  not  alone  in  the  world ;  she  was 
neither  a  recluse  nor  a  genius,  but  a  girl  with  many 
loving  friends  and  a  genial  home  life.  Having  re 
solved  to  bear  to  the  world  an  unchanged  front,  she 
outwardly  did  as  she  had  always  done.  Her 
mother's  zealous  worldliness  returned  with  her 
health,  and  Ruth  fell  in  with  all  her  plans  for  a 
gay  winter  —  that  is,  the  plans  were  gay ;  Ruth's 
presence  could  hardly  be  termed  so.  The  old  spon 
taneous  laugh  was  superseded  by  a  gentle  smile, 
sympathetic  perhaps,  but  never  joyous.  She  listened 
more,  and  seldom  now  took  the  lead  in  general  con 
versation,  though  there  was  a  fascination  about  a 
tete-a-tete  with  her  which  earnest  persons,  men  and 
women,  felt  without  being  able  to  define.  For  the 
change,  without  doubt,  was  there.  It  was  as  if  a 

239 


240  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

quiet  hand  had  been  passed  over  her  exuberant, 
happy  girlhood  and  had  left  a  serious,  thoughtful 
woman  in  its  stead.  A  subtle  change  like  this  is 
not  speedily  noticed  by  outsiders;  it  requires  usage 
before  an  acquaintance  will  account  it  a  character 
istic  instead  of  a  mood.  But  her  family  knew  it. 
Mrs.  Levice,  wholly  in  the  dark  as  to  the  cause, 
wondered  openly. 

"  You  might  be  thirty,  Ruth,  instead  of  twenty- 
two,  by  the  seriousness  of  your  manner.  While 
other  girls  are  laughing  and  chatting  as  girls  should, 
you  look  on  with  the  tolerant  pensiveness  of  a 
woman  of  grave  concerns.  If  you  had  anything 
to  trouble  you,  there  might  be  some  excuse,  but  as 
it  is,  why  can't  you  enter  into  enjoyments  like  the 
rest  of  your  friends  ?  " 

"  Don't  I  ?  Why,  I  hardly  know  another  girl  who 
lives  in  such  constant  gayety  as  I.  Aren't  we  going 
to  a  dinner  this  evening  and  to  the  ball  tomorrow 
night?" 

"  Yes.  But  you  might  as  well  be  going  to  a 
funeral  for  all  the  pleasure  you  seem  to  anticipate. 
If  you  come  to  a  ball  with  such  a  grandly  serious 
air,  the  men  will  just  as  soon  think  of  asking  a 
statue  to  dance  as  you.  A  statue  may  be  beautiful 
in  its  niche,  but  people  don't  care  to  study  its  mean 
ing  at  a  ball." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  241 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  mamma  ?  I  should 
hate  the  distinction  of  a  wall-flower  as  much  as 
anyone.  I'm  afraid  I'm  too  big  a  woman  to  be 
kittenish." 

"  You  never  were  that,  but  you  were  at  least  a 
girl.  People  will  begin  to  think  you  consider  your 
self  above  them,  or  else  that  you  have  some  secret 
sorrow." 

The  smile  of  incredulity  with  which  she  answered 
her  mother  would  have  been  heart-breaking  had  it 
been  understood.  No  flush  stained  the  ivory  pallor 
of  her  face  at  these  thrusts  in  the  dark  —  Louis 
was  never  aesthetically  annoyed  by  that  propensity 
now.  Her  old-time  excited  contradictions  no  longer 
obtruded  themselves  into  their  conversations.  A 
silent  knowledge  lay  between  them  which  neither, 
by  word  or  look,  ever  alluded  to.  Mrs.  Levice 
noted  with  delight  their  changed  relations.  Louis's 
sarcasms  ceased  to  be  directed  at  Ruth,  and  though 
the  familiar  sparring  was  missing,  her  mother  pre 
ferred  his  deferential  bearing  when  he  addressed 
her,  and  Ruth's  grave  gentleness  with  him.  She 
drew  her  own  conclusions,  and  accepted  Ruth's 
quietude  with  more  patience  with  this  hope  at  heart. 

Louis  understood  somewhat,  and  in  his  manliness 
he  could  not  hide  that  her  suffering  had  cost  him  a 
new  tenderness  of  attitude.  But  he  could  not  un- 


242  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

derstand  as  her  father  did.  Despite  her  brave 
smile,  Levice  could  almost  read  her  heart-beats,  and 
the  knowledge  brought  a  hardness  and  a  bitter  re 
gret.  He  grew  to  scanning  her  face  surreptitiously, 
looking  in  vain  for  the  old,  untroubled  delight  in 
things;  and  when  the  unmistakable  signs  of  secret 
anguish  would  leave  traces  at  times,  he  would  turn 
away  with  a  groan.  Yet  there  was  nothing  to  be 
done.  He  knew  that  her  love  had  been  no  light 
thing,  nor  could  her  giving  up  be  so;  but  feeling 
that,  no  matter  what  the  present  cost,  the  result 
would  compensate,  he  trusted  to  time  to  heal  the 
wound.  Meanwhile  his  own  self -blame,  in  such 
moments  of  intrusion,  left  its  mark  upon  him. 

For  Ruth  lived  a  truly  dual  life.  The  real  one 
was  passed  in  her  quiet  chamber,  in  her  long  solitary 
walks,  and  when  she  .sat  with  her  book,  apparently 
reading.  Often  she  would  unconsciously  look  up 
with  blank,  despairing  eyes,  clinched  hands,  and 
hard-set  teeth  when  the  thought  of  him  and  all  her 
loss  would  steal  upon  her.  Her  father  had  caught 
many  such  a  look  upon  her  face.  She  had  resolved 
to  live  without  him,  but  accomplishment  was  not  so 
easy.  Besides,  it  was  not  as  if  she  never  saw  him. 
San  Francisco  is  not  so  large  a  city  but  that  by  the 
turning  of  a  corner  you  may  not  come  across  a 
friend.  Ruth  grew  to  study  the  sounds  the  differ- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  243 

ent  kinds  of  vehicles  made;  and  the  rolling  wheels 
of  a  doctor's  carriage  behind  her  would  set  her 
pulses  fluttering  in  fright. 

She  was  walking  one  day  along  Sutter  Street 
toward  Gough,  from  Octavia.  The  street  takes  a 
sudden  down-grade  midway  in  the  block.  She  was 
approaching  this  declension  just  before  the  Boys' 
High  School  when  a  carriage  drove  quickly  up  the 
hill  toward  her.  The  horses  gave  a  bound  as  if  the 
reins  had  been  jerked,  there  was  the  momentary 
flash  of  a  man's  stern,  white  face  as1  he  raised  his 
hat,  and  Ruth  was  walking  down  the  hill,  trembling 
and  pale.  It  was  the  first  time,  and  for  one  minute 
her  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating  and  then  to  rush 
wildly  on.  Whether  she  had  bowed  or  made  any 
sign  of  recognition,  she  did  not  know.  It  did  not 
matter,  though.  If  he  thought  her  cold  or  strange 
or  anything,  what  difference  could  it  possibly  make? 
For  her  there  would  be  left  forever  only  this  dead 
emptiness.  These  casual  meetings  were  inevitable, 
and  she  would  come  home  after  them  worn-out  and 
heavy-eyed.  "  A  slight  headache  "  became  a  recur 
rent  excuse  with  her. 

They  had  mutual  friends,  and  it  would  not  have 
been  surprising  had  she  met  him  at  the  different  af 
fairs  to  which  she  went,  always  through  her  mother's 
desire.  But  the  dread  of  coming  upon  him  slowly 


244  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

departed  as  the  months  rolled  by  and  with  them 
all  token  of  him.  Time  and  again  she  would  hear 
allusions  to  him.  "  Dr.  Kemp  has  developed  into  a 
real  misogynist,"  complained  Dorothy  Gwynne. 
"  He  was  one  of  the  few  decided  eligibles  on  the 
horizon,  but  it  needs  the  magnet  of  illness  to  draw 
him  now.  I  really  must  look  up  the  symptoms  of  a 
possible  ache;  the  toilette  and  expression  of  an  inva 
lid  are  very  becoming,  you  know." 

"  Dr.  Kemp  made  a  splendid  donation  to  our  kin 
dergarten  today.  I  hadn't  seen  him  since  we  were 
in  the  country,  till  today,  and  he  thought  me  looking 
very  well.  He  inquired  after  the  family,  and  I  told 
him  we  had  a  residence  —  at  which  he  smiled." 
This  from  Mrs.  Levice.  Ruth  would  have  given 
much  to  have  been  able  to  ask  after  him  with  self- 
possession,  but  the  muscles  of  her  throat  seemed  to 
swell  and  choke  her  while  silent. 

She  went  now  and  then  to  see  Bob  Bard  in  his 
flower-shop.  He  would  inquire  without  fail  after 
"  our  friend,"  or  tell  her  of  his  having  passed  that 
day.  Here  was  her  one  chance  of  ascertaining 
whether  he  were  looking  well  or  otherwise,  and  the 
answer  to  her  inquiry  was  invariably,  "  Splendid." 

She  sat  one  night  at  the  opera  in  her  wonted 
beauty,  her  soft,  dusky  hair  rolled  from  her  sweet, 
madonna  face.  Many  a  lorgnette  was  raised  a  sec- 


OTHBR  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  245 

ond  and  a  third  time  toward  her,  and  Louis,  seated 
next  to  her,  resented  with  unaccountable  ferocity 
this  free  admiration  which  she  neither  saw  or  felt. 

As  the  curtain  went  down  on  the  first  act,  he  drew 
her  attention  to  some  well-known  man  then  passing 
out.  She  raised  her  glass,  but  her  hand  fell  nerve 
less  in  her  lap.  Directly  following  him  came  Dr. 
Kemp.  His  eyes  met  hers,  and  he  bowed,  passing 
on  immediately.  The  rest  of  the  evening  passed 
like  a  nightmare ;  she  heard  nothing  but  her  heart 
throbs,  saw  nothing  but  his  beloved  face  regarding 
her  with  simple  courtesy.  Louis  knew  that,  for 
her,  the  opera  was  over;  the  telltale,  bistrous  shad 
ows  grew  around  her  eyes,  and  she  became  deadly 
silent. 

"  What  a  big  man  he  is,"  murmured  Mrs.  Levice, 
"  and  what  a  nice  bow  he  has !  "  Ruth  did  not  hear 
her,  but  when  she  reached  her  own  room,  she  threw 
herself  face  downward  on  her  bed  in  intolerable 
anguish.  She  was  not  a  girl  who  cried  easily.  If 
she  had  been,  her  suffering  would  not  have  been 
so  intense  —  when  the  floodgates  are  opened,  the 
stormy  river  finds  relief.  Over  and  over  again  she 
wished  she  might  die  and  end  this  eager,  passionate 
craving  for  some  token  of  love  from  him,  or  for  the 
power  of  letting  him  know  how  it  was  with  her. 
And  it  would  always  be  thus  as  long  as  she  lived. 


246  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

She  did  not  deceive  herself;  no  mere  friendship 
would  have  sufficed  —  all  or  nothing,  after  what 
had  been. 

Physically,  however,  she  bore  no  traces  of  this 
continual  restraint.  On  the  contrary,  her  slender 
figure  seemed  to  mature  to  more  womanly  propor 
tions.  Little  children,  seeing  her,  smiled  respon- 
sively  at  her,  or  clamored  to  be  taken  into  her  arms, 
there  was  such  a  tender,  mother-look  about  her. 
Gradually  her  friends  began  to  feel  the  repose  and 
sympathy  of  her  face,  and  came  to  regard  her  as 
the  queen  of  confidantes.  Young  girls  with  their 
continual  love  episodes  and  excitements,  ambitious 
youths  with  their  whimsical  schemes  of  life  and 
aspirations  of  love,  sought  her  out  openly.  Few  of 
these  latter  dared  hope  for  any  individual  thought 
from  her,  though  any  of  the  older  men  would  have 
staked  a  good  deal  for  the  knowledge  that  she  sin 
gled  him  out  for  her  consideration.  Knowing  noth 
ing,  few  felt  the  pathos  of  her  new  beauty. 

Arnold  viewed  it  all  with  irresistible  satisfaction. 
He  regarded  memory  as  a  sort  of  palimpsest,  and  he 
was  patiently  waiting  until  his  own  name  should  ap 
pear  again,  when  the  other's  should  have  been  suffi 
ciently  obliterated. 

It  was  a  severe  winter,  and  everybody  appreciated 
the  luxury  of  a  warm  home.  December  came  in 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  247 

wet  and  cold,  and  la  grippe  held  the  country  in  its 
disagreeable  hold.  The  Levices  were  congratulating 
themselves  one  evening  on  their  having  escaped  the 
epidemic. 

"  I  suppose  the  secret  of  it  lies  in  the  fact  that 
we  don't  coddle  ourselves,"  observed  Levice. 

"  If  you  were  to  coddle  yourself  a  little  more," 
retorted  his  wife,  "  you  wouldn't  cough  every  morn 
ing  as  you  do.  Really,  Jules,  if  you  don't  see  a 
doctor,  I'll  send  for  Kemp  myself.  I  actually  think 
it's  making  you  thin." 

"  Nonsense !  "  he  replied  carelessly ;  "  it's  only  a 
little  irritation  of  the  throat  every  morning.  If  the 
weather  is  clear  next  week,  I  must  go  to  New  York. 
Eh,  Louis?" 

"  At  this  time  of  the  year !  "  cried  Mrs.  Levice,  in 
expostulation. 

"  Someone  has  to  go,  and  the  only  one  who 
should,  is  I." 

"  I  think  I  could  manage  to  go,"  said  Louis,  "  if 
you  would  see  about  that  other  real  estate  adjust 
ment  while  I  am  gone." 

"  No,  you  could  not  " —  when  Levice  said  "  no," 
it  seldom  meant  an  ultimate  "  yes."  "  Besides,  the 
trip  will  do  me  good." 

"  I  shall  go  with  you,"  put  in  Mrs.  Levice, 
decidedly. 


248  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  No,  dear ;  you  couldn't  stand  the  cold  in  New 
York,  and  I  couldn't  be  bothered  with  the  responsi 
bility  of  your  being  there." 

"  Take  Ruth,  then." 

"  I  should  love  to  go  with  you,  father,"  Ruth  re 
plied  to  the  questioning  glance  of  his  eyes.  He 
seemed  to  ponder  over  it  for  a  while,  but  shook  his 
head  finally.  * 

"  No,"  he  said  again.  "  I  shall  be  very  busy,  and 
a  woman  would  be  a  nuisance  to  me.  Besides,  I 
want  to  be  alone  for  a  while." 

They  all  looked  at  him  in  surprise;  he  was  so 
unused  to  making  testy  remarks. 

"Grown  tired  of  womankind?"  asked  Mrs. 
Levice,  playfully.  "Well,  if  you  must,  you  must; 
you  mustn't  overstay  your  health  and  fun,  and  — 
you  can  bring  us  something  pretty  home.  How  long 
will  you  be  gone  ?  " 

"  That  depends  on  the  speediness  of  the  courts. 
Not  more  than  three  weeks  at  the  utmost,  at  any 
rate." 

So  the  following  Wednesday,  the  day  being  bright 
and  sunny,  he  set  off.  The  family  crossed  the  Bay 
with  him. 

"  Take  care  of  your  mother,  Ruth,"  he  said  at 
parting,  "  and  of  yourself,  my  pale  darling." 

"  Don't  worry  about  me,  father,"  she  said,  pulling 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  249 

up  his  fur  collar.  "  Indeed,  I'm  well  and  happy. 
If  you  could  believe  me,  perhaps  you'd  love  me  as 
much  as  you  used  to." 

"  As  much !  My  child,  I  never  loved  you  better 
than  now ;  remember  that.  I  think  I  have  forgotten 
everybody  else  in  you." 

"  Don't,  dear !  —  it  makes  me  feel  miserable  to 
think  I  should  cause  you  a  moment's  uneasiness. 
Won't  you  believe  that  everything  is  as  I  wish  it?  " 

"  If  I  could,  I  should  have  to  lose  the  memory  of 
the  last  four  months.  Well,  try  your  best  to  forgive 
me,  child." 

"  Unless  you  hate  me,  don't  hurt  me  with  that 
thought  again.  I  forgive  you?  I,  who  am  the 
cause  of  it  all  ?  " 

He  kissed  her  tear-filled  eyes  tenderly,  and  turned 
with  a  sigh  to  her  mother. 

They  watched  to  the  last  his  loved  face  at  the 
window,  Ruth  with  a  sad  smile  and  a  loving  wave 
of  her  handkerchief. 

Over  at  the  mole  is  not  a  bad  place  to  witness 
tragedies.  Pathos  holds  the  upper  hand,  and  the 
welcomes  are  sometimes  as  heart-rending  as  the 
leave-takings.  A  woman  stood  on  the  ferry  with  a 
blank,  working  face  down  which  the  tears  fell  heed 
lessly;  a  man,  her  husband,  turned  from  her,  drew 
his  hat  down  over  his  eyes,  and  stalked  off  toward 


250  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

the  train  without  a  backward  glance.  Parting  is  a 
figure  of  death  in  this  respect :  that  only  those  who 
are  left  need  mourn;  the  others  have  something  new, 
beyond. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  firelight  threw  grotesque  shadows  on  the 
walls.  Ruth  and  Louis  in  the  library  made 
no  movement  to  light  up ;  it  was  quite  cosy  as  it  was. 
They  had  both  drawn  near  the  crackling  wood- 
blaze,  Ruth's  finger  keeping  her  place  within  her 
closed  book,  Arnold  lost  in  thought  in  Mr.  Levice's 
broad  easy-chair. 

"  I  surely  thought  you  intended  going  to  the  con 
cert  this  evening,  Louis,"  she  said  presently,  looking 
across  at  him.  "  I  fancy  mamma  expected  you  to 
go  with  her." 

"What!  Voluntarily  put  myself  into  the  cold 
when  there  is  a  fire  blazing  right  here?  Hardly. 
At  any  rate,  your  mother  is  all  right  with  the 
Lewises,  and  I  am  all  right  with  you." 

"  I'll  give  you  a  guarantee  I  won't  bite;  you  look 
altogether  too  hard  for  any  cannibalistic  designs 
with  that  look  on  your  face." 

"  It  is  something  not  to  be  accounted  soft.  I 
think  a  redundancy  of  flesh  too  often  overflows  in 
trickling  sentimentality.  My  worst  enemy  could  not 
accuse  me  of  either  fault." 

251 


252  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  But  your  best  friend  wouldn't  mind  a  little  thaw 
now  and  then.  I  can't  complain,  of  course,  but 
one  of  the  girls  confided  to  me  today  that  walking 
on  an  over-waxed  floor  was  nothing  to  attempting 
an  equal  footing  in  conversation  with  you." 

"  I'm  sorry  I'm  such  a  slippery  customer.  Does 
the  fire  burn  your  face  ?  Shall  I  hand  you  a  screen  ?  " 

"  No,  I  like  to  toast." 

"  But  your  complexion  might  not  like  it.  Move 
your  chair  a  little  farther  away." 

"  In  two  minutes  I  intend  to  have  lights  and 
bring  my  work  down.  Will  it  make  you  tired  to 
watch  me  ?  " 

"  Exceedingly.  I  prefer  your  undivided  atten 
tion.  It  is  not  often  we  are  alone,  Ruth." 

She  looked  up  slightly  startled ;  he  seldom  voiced 
his  sentiments,  and  his  studied  diction  made  every 
word  doubly  impressive.  Her  pulses  began  to  flut 
ter  with  the  premonition  that  reference  to  a  tacitly 
buried  secret  was  going  to  be  made. 

"  We've  been  going  out  and  receiving  a  good 
deal  lately,  I  know,  though  somehow  I  don't  feel 
festive,  with  father  away  in  freezing  New  York. 
Mamma  would  gladly  have  stayed  at  home  tonight 
if  Jennie  hadn't  insisted." 

'  You  think  so  ?  I  fancy  she  was  a  very  willing 
victim.  She  intimated  as  much  to  me." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  253 

"  She  did !     I  didn't  hear  anything." 

"  Not  in  words,  but  her  eyes  were  interesting 
reading:  first,  capitulation  to  Jennie,  then,  in  rapid 
succession,  inspiration,  command,  entreaty,  a  chal 
lenge,  and  retreat,  all  directed  at  me.  Possibly  this 
eloquence  was  lost  upon  you." 

"  Entirely.     What  was  your  interpretation  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that  was  confidential.  Perhaps  I  even  en 
dowed  her  with  these  thoughts,  knowing  her  desires 
were  in  touch  with  my  own." 

"  It's  wanton  cruelty  to  arouse  a  woman's  curi 
osity  and  leave  it  unsatisfied.  Speak,  old  Tanta 
lus!" 

"  It  is  not  cruelty;  it  is  cowardice." 

She  gazed  at  him  in  amazement.  His  apple- 
blossom  cheeks  wore  a  rosier  glow  than  usual.  He 
nervously  seized  a  log  from  the  box,  threw  it  on  the 
blaze  illumining  their  faces,  grasped  the  poker,  and 
leaning  forward  in  his  chair  let  it  grow  red-hot  as 
he  held  it  idle  in  the  flames.  His  glasses  fell  off, 
dangling  from  the  cord,  and  as  he  adjusted  them, 
he  caught  the  curious,  half -amused  questioning  in 
Ruth's  attentive  face.  He  gave  the  fire  a  sharp 
raking  and  addressed  her,  gazing  into  the  leaping 
flames. 

"  I  was  wondering  why,  after  all,  you  could  not 
be  happy  as  my  wife." 


254  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

A  numbness  as  of  death  overspread  her. 

"  I  think  I  could  make  you  happy,  Ruth." 

In  the  pregnant  silence  which  followed  he  looked 
up,  and  meeting  her  sad,  reproachful  eyes,  laid  down 
the  poker  softly  but  resolutely,  as  if  with  method  in 
the  simple  action. 

"  In  fact,  I  know  I  could  make  you  happy." 

"  Louis,  have  you  forgotten  ?  "  she  cried  in  sharp 
pain. 

"  I  have  forgotten  nothing,"  he  replied  incisively. 
"  Listen  to  me,  Ruth.  It  is  because  I  remember,  that 
I  ask  you.  Give  me  the  right  to  care  for  you,  and 
you  will  be  happier  than  you  can  ever  be  —  in  this 
condition." 

:<  You  don't  know  what  you  are  asking,  Louis. 
Even  if  I  could,  you  would  never  be  satisfied." 

"  Try  me,  Ruth,"  he  entreated. 

She  raised  herself  from  her  easy,  reclining  posi 
tion,  and  regarded  him  earnestly. 

"  What  you  ask,"  she  said  in  a  constrained  man 
ner,  "  would  be  little  short  of  a  crime  to  accede  to. 
What  manner  of  wife  should  I  be  to  you  when  my 
every  thought  is  given  to  another  ?  " 

His  face  put  on  the  set  look  of  one  who  has  shut 
his  teeth  hard  together. 

"  I  anticipated  this  repulse,"  he  said  after  a  pause, 
"  so  what  you  have  just  assured  me  of  does  not 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  255 

affect  my  wish  or  my  resolution  to  continue  my 
plea." 

"  Would  you  marry  a  woman  who  feels  herself  as 
closely  bound  to  another,  or  the  memory  of  an 
other,  as  if  the  marriage  rite  had  been  actually  per 
formed?  Oh,  Louis,  how  can  you  force  me  to 
these  disclosures?  " 

"  I  am  seeking  no  disclosure,  but  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  continue  silent  now." 

"Why?" 

"  Why?     Because  I  love  you." 

They  sat  so  close  together  he  might  have  touched 
her  by  putting  out  his  hand,  but  he  remained  per 
fectly  still,  only  the  pale  excitement  of  long  repres 
sion  speaking  from  his  face.  She  shrank  back  at  his 
words  and  raised  her  hand  as  if  he  had  struck  her. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,"  he  continued,  noticing  the 
motion.  "  My  love  cannot  hurt  you,  or  it  would 
have  killed  you  long  ago." 

"  Oh,  Louis,"  she  murmured,  "  forgive  me ;  I 
never  thought  you  cared  so  much." 

"  How  should  you  ?  I  am  not  a  man  to  wear  my 
heart  upon  my  sleeve.  I  think  I  have  always  loved 
you,  but  living  as  familiarly  as  we  have  lived,  seeing 
you  whenever  I  wished,  the  thought  that  some  day 
this  might  end  never  occurred  to  me.  It  was  only 
when  the  possibility  of  some  other  man's  claiming 


256  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

your  love  and  taking  you  from  me  presented  itself, 
that  my  heart  rose  up  in  arms  against  it  —  and  then 
I  asked  you  to  be  my  wife." 

'  Yes,"  she  replied,  raising  her  pale  face,  "  and  I 
refused.  The  same  cause  that  moved  me  then,  and 
to  which  you  submitted  without  protest,  rules  me 
now,  and  you  know  it." 

"  No ;  I  do  not  know  it.  What  then  might  have 
had  a  possible  issue,  is  now  done  with. —  Or  do  I 
err?" 

Her  mouth  trembled  piteously,  but  no  tears  came 
as  she  lowered  her  head. 

'  Then  listen  to  me.  You  may  think  me  a  poor 
sort  of  a  fellow  even  to  wish  you  to  marry  me  when 
you  assure  me  that  you  love  another.  That  means 
that  you  do  not  love  me  as  a  husband  should  be 
loved,  but  it  does  not  prove  that  you  never  could 
love  me  so." 

"  It  proves  just  that." 

"  No,  you  may  think  so  now,  but  let  me  reason 
you  into  seeing  the  falsity  of  your  thought  —  for  I 
do  not  wish  to  force  or  impel  you  to  do  a  thing 
repugnant  to  your  reason  as  well  as  to  your  feelings. 
To  begin  with,  you  do  not  dislike  me  ?  " 

His  face  was  painful  in  its  eagerness. 

"  I  have  always  loved  you  as  a  dear  brother." 

"  Some  people  would  consider  that  worse  than 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  257 

hostility  —  I  do  not.  Another  question :  Is  there 
anything  about  my  life  or  personality  to  which  you 
object,  or  of  which  you  are  ashamed?  " 

"  You  know  how  proud  we  all  are  of  you  in  your 
bearing  in  every  relation  of  life." 

"  I  was  egotist  enough  to  think  as  much  at  any 
rate;  otherwise  I  could  not  approach  you  so  confi 
dently.  Well,  love  —  indifferent  if  you  will  —  and 
respect,  are  not  a  bad  foundation  for  something 
stronger.  Will  you,  for  the  sake  of  argument, 
suppose,  for  a  moment,  that  for  some  reason  you 
have  forgotten  your  opposition  and  have  been  led 
into  marrying  me?  " 

The  sad  indulgence  of  her  smile  was  not  inspirit 
ing,  but  he  continued: 

"  Now,  then,  say  you  are  my  wife;  that  means  I 
am  your  husband,  and  —  I  love  you.  You  do  not 
return  my  love,  you  say;  you  think  you  would  be 
wretched  with  me  because  you  love  another.  Still, 
you  are  married  to  me  and  that  gives  me  rights 
that  no  other  man  can  possess,  no  matter  how  much 
you  love  him.  You  are  bound  to  me,  I  to  you  and 
to  your  happiness ;  so  I  pledge  myself  to  make  you 
happier  than  you  are  now,  because  —  I  shall  make 
you  forget  this  man !  " 

"  You  could  not,  and  I  should  only  grow  to  hate 
you!" 


258  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Impossible."  The  pallor  of  his  face  deepened. 
"  Impossible,  because  I  should  so  act  that  my  love 
would  wait  upon  your  pleasure :  it  would  never  push 
itself  into  another's  place,  but  it  would,  in  time, 
overshadow  the  other.  For,  remember,  I  shall  be 
your  husband.  I  shall  give  you  another  life;  I  shall 
take  you  away  with  me.  You  will  leave  all  your 
old  friends  and  associations  for  a  while,  and  I  shall 
be  with  you  always  —  not  intrusively,  but  neces 
sarily.  I  shall  give  you  every  pleasure  and  novelty 
the  old  world  can  afford.  I  shall  shower  my  love 
on  you,  not  myself.  In  return,  I  shall  expect  your 
—  tolerance.  In  time,  I  will  make  you  love  me !  " 

His  voice  shook  with  the  strength  of  his  passion, 
while  she  listened  in  heartsick  fear.  Carried  away 
by  his  intensity,  she  almost  felt  as  if  he  had  accom 
plished  his  object.  But  he  quieted  down  after  this. 

"  Don't  you  see,  Ruth,  that  all  this  change  must 
make  you  forget?  And  if  you  tried  to  put  the  past 
from  you,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  your 
wifehood  would  be  less  untrue,  you  would  be  only 
following  the  instincts  of  the  truly  honorable 
woman  you  are.  After  that,  all  would  be  easy.  In 
every  instance  you  would  be  forced  to  look  upon 
me  as  your  husband,  for  you  would  belong  to  me. 
I  should  be  the  author  of  all  your  surroundings, 
and  always  keeping  in  mind  how  I  wish  you  to  hold 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  259 

me,  I  should  woo  you  so  tenderly  that  without 
knowing  it  you  would  finally  yield.  Then,  and  only 
then,  when  I  had  filled  your  thought  to  the  exclusion 
of  every  other  man,  I  should  bring  you  home.  And 
I  think  we  would  be  happy." 

"  And  you  would  be  satisfied  to  give  so  much  and 
receive  so  little?" 

"  The  end  would  repay  me." 

"  It's  a  pretty  story,"  she  said,  letting  her  hands 
fall  listlessly  into  her  lap,  "  but  the  denouement  is 
a  castle  in  Spain  that  we  should  never  occupy.  You 
think  your  love  is  strong  enough  to  kill  mine,  first 
of  all.  Well,  I  tell  you,  nothing  is  strong  enough 
for  that.  With  this  fact  established,  the  rest  is 
needless  to  speak  of.  It  is  only  your  dream,  Louis ; 
forgive  me  that  I  unwittingly  intruded  into  it; 
reality  would  only  mean  disillusion.  We  are  happy 
only  when  we  dream." 

"  You  are  bitter." 

"  Our  relations  are  turned,  then ;  I  have  merely 
experienced  your  old  theories  of  the  uselessness  of 
much.  No;  I  am  wrong.  It  is  better  to  die  than 
not  to  have  loved." 

'  You  think  you  have  lived  your  life,  then.  I 
can't  convince  you  otherwise  now;  but  I  am  going 
to  beg  you  to  think  this  over  —  to  try  to  imagine 
yourself  my  wife.  I  will  not  urge  your  decision, 


260  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

but  in  a  week's  time  don't  you  think  you  should  be 
able  to  answer  me  yes  or  no?  If  anything  can 
help  my  cause,  I  don't  want  to  overlook  it;  so  I 
may  tell  you  now  that,  for  some  unexpressed  reason 
your  mother's  one  wish  is  to  see  you  my  wife." 

"  And  my  father?  "    Her  voice  was  quite  hoarse. 

"  Your  father  has  expressed  to  your  mother  that 
such  a  course  would  make  him  exceedingly  happy." 

She  rose  suddenly  as  if  forced  to  her  feet.  Her 
face  looked  hard  to  a  degree.  She  stood  before  him, 
tall  and  rigid.  He  stood  up  and  faced  her,  reading 
her  face  so  intently  that  he  straightened  himself  as 
if  about  to  receive  a  Wow. 

"  I  will  consider  what  you  have  said,"  she  said 
mechanically. 

The  reaction  was  so  unexpected  he  turned  giddy, 
and  caught  on  to  the  back  of  a  chair  to  steady  him 
self. 

"  It  won't  take  me  a  week,"  she  went  on  with  no 
change  in  her  monotone.  "  I  can  give  you  an 
answer  in  a  day  or  two.  Tomorrow  night,  per 
haps." 

He  made  a  step  forward,  a  movement  to  seize  her 
hand,  but  she  stepped  back,  motioning  him  off. 

"  Don't  touch  me,"  she  cried  in  a  suppressed 
voice,  "  at  least  you're  not  my  husband  —  yet." 

She  turned  hastily  toward  the  door. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  261 

"Wait!" 

His  vibrant  voice  compelled  her  to  turn. 

"  I  want  no  martyr  for  a  wife,  and  no  tragedy 
queen.  If  you  can  come  to  me  and  honestly  say, 
*  I  trust  my  happiness  to  you,'  well  and  good.  But 
as  I  told  you  once  before,  I  am  not  a  saint,  and  I 
cannot  always  control  myself  as  I  have  forced 
myself  to  do  tonight.  If  this  admission  is  damag 
ing,  it  is  too  true  to  be  put  lightly  aside.  I  will  not 
detain  you  any  longer." 

He  looked  haughty  and  cold  regarding  her  from 
this  dim  distance.  Her  gentleness  struggled  to  get 
the  better  of  her,  and  she  came  back  and  held  out 
her  hand. 

"  I'm  sorry  if  I  offended  you,  Louis.  Good 
night.  Won't  you  pardon  my  miserable  selfish 
ness?" 

His  eyes  gleamed  behind  their  glasses ;  he  did  not 
take  her  hand,  but  merely  bent  over  the  little  peace- 
offering  as  over  a  sacrament.  Seeing  that  he  had  no 
intention  of  doing  more,  her  hand  fell  passively  to 
her  side,  and  with  bent  head,  she  left  the  room. 

As  the  door  closed  softly,  Arnold  sank  with  a 
hopeless  gesture  into  a  chair  and  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands.  He  was  not  a  stoic,  but  a  man,  young, 
a  Frenchman,  who  loved  much.  And,  half -blinded 
by  his  own  love,  he  could  not  appreciate  the  depths 


262  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

of  self-forgetfulness  to  which  Ruth  would  have  to 
succumb  before  she  could  accept  the  guaranty  of 
happiness  which  he  had  offered  her. 

The  question  now  presented  itself  to  her  in  the 
light  of  a  duty:  if  by  this  action  she  could  undo  the 
remorse  her  former  offense  had  inflicted,  had  she 
the  right  to  ignore  the  opportunity?  A  vision  of 
her  own  sad  face  obtruded  itself,  but  she  put  it 
sternly  from  her.  If  she  were  to  do  this  thing,  the 
motive  alone  must  be  considered;  and  she  rigidly 
kept  in  view  the  fact  that  her  marriage  would  be 
the  only  means  by  which  her  father  might  be 
relieved  of  the  haunting  knowledge  of  her  lost  peace 
of  mind.  Had  she  given  one  thought  to  Louis,  the 
mere  consideration  of  the  idea  would  have  been  im 
possible  to  her.  One  picture  alone  she  kept  con 
stantly  before  her :  her  father's  happy  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

MRS.  LEVICE'S  gaze  strayed  pensively  from 
the  violets  she  was  embroidering  to  Ruth's 
pale  face.  Every  time  the  latter  stirred,  her  mother 
started  expectantly,  but  the  anxiously  awaited  dis 
closure  was  not  forthcoming.  Outside,  the  rain 
kept  up  a  sullen  downpour,  deepening  the  sense  of 
comfort  within ;  but  Mrs.  Levice  was  not  what  one 
might  call  comfortably  minded.  Her  frequent  in 
ventories  of  Ruth's  face  had  at  last  led  her  to 
believe  that  the  pallor  there  depicted  and  the  heavy, 
dark  shadows  about  her  eyes  meant  something 
decidedly  not  gladsome,  something  decidedly 
serious. 

"  Don't  you  feel  well,  Ruth  ?  "  she  asked  finally, 
with  some  anxiety. 

Ruth  raised  her  heavy  eyes. 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  feel  perfectly  well.  Why  do  you  ask  ? 
Do  I  look  ill?" 

"  Yes,  you  do ;  your  face  is  unusually  pale,  and 
your  eyes  look  tired.  Did  you  sit  up  over  late  last 
night?" 

263 


264  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

This  was  a  leading  move,  but  Ruth  evaded  the 
deeper  meaning  so  evident  to  her  now. 

"  No,"  she  replied ;  "  I  believe  it  couldn't  have 
been  nine  when  I  went  upstairs." 

"  Why  ?  Were  you  too  tired  to  sit  up,  or  was 
Louis's  company  unpleasant?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  was  the  abrupt  response,  and  her  eyes 
fell  to  the  open  page  again. 

Mrs.  Levice,  once  started  on  the  trail,  was  not  to 
be  baffled  by  such  tactics.  Since  Ruth  was  not  ill, 
she  had  had  some  mental  disturbance  of  which  her 
haggard  appearance  was  the  consequence.  She  felt 
almost  positive  that  Louis  had  made  some  advances 
last  night  judging  by  the  flash  of  intelligence  with 
which  he  had  met  her  telegraphic  expression.  It 
was  natural  for  her  to  be  curious ;  it  was  unnatural 
for  Ruth  to  be  so  reticent.  With  expectations  not 
a  little  hurt  she  decided  to  know  something  more. 

"  For  my  part,"  she  observed,  as  if  continuing  a 
discussion,  "  I  think  Louis  charming  in  a  tete-a-tete 
—  when  he  feels  inclined  to  be  interesting  he 
generally  succeeds.  Did  he  tell  you  anything  worth 
repeating?  It's  a  dull  afternoon,  and  you  might 
entertain  me  a  little." 

She  looked  up  from  the  violet  petal  she  had  just 
completed  and  encountered  Ruth's  full,  questioning 
gaze. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  265 

"  What  is  it  you  would  like  to  know,  mamma?  " 
she  asked  in  a  gentle  voice. 

"  Nothing  you  do  not  care  to  tell,"  her  mother 
answered  proudly,  but  regarding  her  intently. 

Ruth  passed  her  hand  wearily  across  her  brow, 
and  considered  a  moment  before  answering. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  you  by  my  silence, 
mamma,  but  before  I  had  decided  I  hardly  thought 
it  necessary  to  say  anything.  He  asked  me  to  — 
marry  him." 

The  avowal  was  not  made  with  the  conventional 
confusion  and  trembling. 

Mrs.  Levice  was  startled  by  the  dead  calm  of  her 
manner. 

'  You  say  that  as  if  it  were  a  daily  occurrence  for 
a  man  like  Louis  Arnold  to  offer  you  his  hand  and 
name." 

"  I  hope  not." 

"  But  you  do.  I  confess  I  believe  you're  not  one 
tenth  as  excited  as  I  am.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me 
before?  Any  other  girl  would  have  sat  up  to  tell 
her  mother  in  the  night.  Oh,  Ruth  darling,  I'm  so 
glad.  I've  been  looking  forward  to  this  ever  since 
you  grew  up.  What  did  you  mean  by  saying  you 
wanted  to  wait  till  you  had  decided?  Decided 
what?" 

"  Upon  my  answer." 


266  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  As  if  you  could  question  it,  you  fortunate  girl ! 
Or  were  you  waiting  for  me  to  help  you  to  it?  I 
scarcely  need  tell  you  how  you  have  been  honored." 

"  Honor  isn't  everything,  mamma." 

At  that  moment  a  desperate  longing  for  her 
mother's  sympathy  seized  her,  but  on  the  heel  of 
the  impulse  the  knowledge  of  the  needless  sorrow 
it  would  occasion  came  to  her,  and  her  lips  remained 
closed. 

"  No,"  responded  her  mother,  "  and  you  have 
more  than  that.  Surely  Louis  didn't  neglect  to  tell 
you." 

"  You  mean  his  love,  I  suppose.  —  Yes,  I  have 
that." 

"  Then  what  else  do  you  want  ?  You  probably 
know  that  he  can  give  you  every  luxury  within 
reason  —  we  needn't  overlook  honest  practicality. 
As  for  Louis  himself,  the  most  fastidious  could 
find  nothing  to  cavil  at  —  he  will  make  you  a  per 
fect  husband.  You're  familiar  enough  with  him 
to  know  his  faults,  but  you  know  that  no  man  is 
faultless.  I  hope  you're  not  silly  enough  to  expect 
some  girlish  ideal  —  all  such  ideals  died  in  the 
golden  age,  you  know." 

"  As  mine  did.  No ;  I've  outgrown  imagination 
of  that  description." 

"  Then  why  do  you  hesitate  ?  "     Her  mother's 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  267 

eyes  were  shining,  her  face  was  alive  with  the 
excitement  of  hope  fulfilled.  "  Is  there  anything 
else  wanting?  " 

"  No,"  she  responded  dully.  "  But  let's  not  talk 
about  it  any  more,  please.  I  must  see  Louis  again, 
you  know." 

"If  your  father  were  here,  he  could  help  you 
better,  dear."  There  was  no  reproach  in  Mrs. 
Levice's  gentle  acceptance  of  that  fact.  "  He  will 
be  so  happy  over  it.  There,  kiss  me,  precious.  I 
know  you  like  to  think  things  out  in  silence,  and  I 
won't  say  another  word  about  it  till  you  give  me 
leave." 

She  kept  her  word.  The  dreary  afternoon 
dragged  on.  By  four  o'clock  it  was  growing  dark, 
and  Mrs.  Levice  grew  restless. 

"  I'm  going  to  my  room  to  write  to  your  father 
now  —  he  shall  have  a  good  scolding  for  leaving 
me  without  a  letter  today,"  and  forthwith  she 
betook  herself  upstairs. 

Ruth  closed  her  book  and  moved  restlessly  about 
the  room.  She  wandered  over  to  the  front  window, 
and  drawing  aside  the  silken  curtain,  looked  out  into 
the  storm-tossed  garden.  The  pale  heliotropes  lay 
wet  and  sweet  against  the  trellises;  some  loosened 
rose-petals  fluttered  noiselessly  to  the  ground;  only 
the  gorgeous  chrysanthemums  looked  proudly  indif- 


268  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

ferent  to  the  elements,  while  the  beautiful,  stately 
palm  tree  just  at  the  side  of  the  window  spread  its 
gracious  arms  like  a  protecting  temple.  She  felt 
suddenly  oppressed  and  feverish,  and  threw  open 
the  long  French  window.  The  rain  had  ceased  for 
the  time,  and  she  stepped  out  upon  the  veranda. 
The  fragrance  of  the  rain-soaked  flowers  stole  to 
her  senses;  the  soft,  sweet  breeze  caressed  her 
temples;  she  stood  still  in  the  perfumed  freshness 
and  enjoyed  its  peace.  By  and  by  she  began  to 
walk  up  and  down.  Evening  was  approaching,  and 
Louis  would  soon  be  home.  She  had  decided  to 
meet  him  upon  his  return  and  have  it  over  with. 
She  must  school  herself  to  some  show  of  gracious- 
ness.  The  thing  must  not  be  done  by  halves  or  it 
must  not  be  done  at  all.  Her  father's  happiness! 
Over  and  over  she  repeated  it.  She  went  so  far  as 
to  picture  herself  in  his  arms;  she  heard  the  old- 
time  words  of  blessing;  she  saw  his  smiling  eyes, 
and  a  gentleness  stole  over  her  whole  face,  a  gentle 
nobility  which  made  it  strangely  sweet.  The  soft 
patter  of  rain  on  the  gravel  roused  her,  and  she 
went  in,  but  she  felt  better,  and  wished  Louis  might 
come  in  while  the  mood  was  upon  her. 

It  was  nearing  six  when  Mrs.  Levice  came  back, 
humming  a  song. 

"  I  thought  you  would  still  be  here.    Make  a  light, 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  269 

will  you,  Ruth;  it's  as  pitchy  as  Hades,  and  that 
smoldering  log  looks  purgatorial." 

Ruth  lit  the  gas,  and  as  she  stood  with  upturned 
eyes  adjusting  the  burner,  her  mother  noticed  that 
the  heaviness  had  departed  from  her  face.  She 
sank  into  a  chair  and  took  up  the  evening  paper. 

"What  time  is  it,  Ruth?" 

"  Twenty  minutes  to  six,"  she  answered,  glanc 
ing  at  the  clock. 

"As  late  as  that?"  She  meant  to  say,  "And 
Louis  not  home  yet  ?  "  but  forbore  to  mention  his 
name. 

"  It's  raining  heavily  now,"  said  Ruth,  throwing 
a  log  upon  the  fire.  Mrs.  Levice  unfolded  the  crack 
ling  newspaper,  and  Ruth  moved  over  to  the  window 
to  draw  down  the  blinds.  As  she  stood  looking  out 
with  her  hand  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  she  saw  the 
gate  swing  slowly  open,  and  a  messenger-boy  came 
dawdling  up  the  walk  as  leisurely  as  if  the  sun  were 
streaming  full  upon  him. 

Ruth  stepped  noiselessly  out,  meaning  to  antici 
pate  his  ring.  A  vague  foreboding  drove  the  blood 
from  her  lips  as  she  stood  waiting  at  the  open  hall- 
door.  Seeing  the  streaming  light,  the  boy  man 
aged  to  accelerate  his  snail's  pace. 

"  Miss  Ruth  Levice  live  here?  "  he  asked,  stop 
ping  in  the  doorway. 


270  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

'''  Yes."  She  took  the  packet  he  handed  her. 
"  Any  charges  or  answer?  "  she  asked. 

"  No'm,"  answered  the  boy,  and,  noticing  her 
pallor  and  apprehension,  "  I'll  shet  the  door  for 
you/'  he  added,  laying  his  hand  on  the  knob. 

"  Thank  you.  Here,  take  two  cars  if  necessary; 
it's  too  wet  to  walk."  She  handed  him  a  coin,  and 
the  boy  went  oft,  gayly  whistling. 

She  closed  the  heavy  door  softly  and  sat  down  on 
a  chair.  She  recognized  Louis's  handwriting  on 
the  wrapper,  and  her  heart  fluttered  ominously.  She 
tore  off  the  damp  covering,  and  the  first  thing  she 
encountered  was  another  wrapper  on  which  was 
written  in  large  characters : 

DEAR  RUTH  —  Do  not  be  alarmed ;  everything  is  all 
right.  I  had  to  leave  town  on  the  Overland  at  6  p.  M. 
Read  the  letter  first,  then  the  telegram;  they  will  explain. 

Louis. 

The  solicitude  which  had  prompted  this  warning 
was  appreciated;  one  fear  was  stilled.  She  drew 
out  the  letter;  she  saw  in  perplexity  that  it  was 
from  her  father.  She  hurriedly  opened  it  and  read : 

NEW  YORK,  Jan.  21,  189 — . 

DEAR  Louis  —  I  am  writing  this  from  my  bed,  where 
I  have  been  confined  for  the  past  week  with  pneumonia, 
although  I  managed  to  write  a  daily  post-card.  Have 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  271 

been  quite  ill,  but  am  on  the  mend  and  only  anxious  to 
start  home  again.  I  really  cannot  rest  here,  and  have 
made  arrangements  to  leave  tomorrow.  Have  taken  every 
precaution  against  catching  cold,  and  apart  from  feeling 
a  trifle  weak  and  annoyed  by  a  cough,  am  all  right.  Shall 
come  home  directly.  Say  nothing  of  this  to  Esther  or 
Ruth;  shall  let  them  know  by  telegram  of  my  home 
coming.  Had  almost  completed  the  business,  and  can 
leave  the  rest  to  Hamilton. 
My  love  to  you  all. 

Your  loving  Uncle, 

JULES  LEVICE. 

Under  this  Louis  had  penciled, 
Received  this  this  morning  at  10:30. 

Ruth  closed  her  eyes  as  she  unfolded  the  tele 
gram;  then,  with  every  nerve  quivering,  she  read 
the  yellow  missive: 

RENO,  Jan.  27,  189  — . 
Louis  ARNOLD,  San  Francisco,  Cal. : 

Have  been  delayed  by  my  cough  —  feeling  too  weak  to 
travel  alone  —  come  if  you  can. 

JULES  LEVICE. 

Her  limbs  shook  as  she  sat ;  her  teeth  chattered ; 
for  one  minute  she  turned  sick  and  faint.  Under 
the  telegram  Arnold  had  written : 

Am  sure  it  is  nothing.  He  has  never  been  ill,  and  is 
more  frightened  than  a  more  experienced  person  would 


272  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

be.  There  is  no  need  to  alarm  your  mother  unnecessarily, 
so  say  nothing  till  you  hear  from  me.  Shall  wire  you  as 
soon  as  I  arrive,  which  will  be  tomorrow  night. 

Louis. 

How  could  she  refrain  from  telling  her  mother? 
She  felt  suddenly  weak  and  powerless.  O  God, 
good  God,  her  heart  cried,  only  make  him  well  — 
only  make  him  well ! 

The  sound  of  the  library  door  closing  made  her 
spring  to  her  feet.  Her  mother  stood  regarding  her. 

"  What  is  it,  Ruth?  "  she  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  she  cried,  her  voice  breaking  despite 
her  effort  to  be  calm  —  "  nothing  at  all.  Louis  has 
just  sent  me  word  that  he  had  to  leave  town  this 
evening,  and  says  not  to  wait  dinner  for  him." 

"  That's  very  strange,"  mused  her  mother,  mov 
ing  slowly  toward  her  and  holding  out  her  hand 
for  the  note.  But  Ruth  thrust  the  papers  behind  her. 

"It's  to  me,  mamma;  you  wouldn't  care  for  a 
second-hand  love  letter,  would  you  ?  "  she  asked, 
assuming  a  desperate  gayety.  "  There's  nothing 
strange  about  it;  he  often  leaves  like  this." 

"  Not  in  such  weather  and  not  after  —  There 
won't  be  a  man  in  the  house  tonight.  I  wish  your 
father  were  home;  he  wouldn't  like  it,  if  he  knew." 
She  shivered  violently  as  they  went  into  the  dining- 
room. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  next  day  passed  like  a  nightmare.  To  add 
to  the  misery  of  her  secret,  her  mother  began 
to  fidget  over  the  continued  lack  of  any  communi 
cation  from  her  husband.  Had  the  weather  been 
fair,  Ruth  would  have  insisted  on  her  going  out 
with  her,  but  to  the  rain  of  the  day  before  was  added 
a  heavy  wind-storm  which  made  any  unnecessary 
expedition  from  home  absurd. 

Mrs.  Levice  worried  herself  into  a  headache,  but 
would  not  lie  down.  She  was  sure  the  next  delivery 
would  bring  something.  Wasn't  it  time  for  the 
second  delivery?  Wouldn't  Ruth  please  watch  for 
the  postman?  By  half -past  one  she  took  up  her 
station  at  the  window,  only  to  see  the  jaunty  little 
rubber-encased  man  go  indifferently  by.  At  half- 
past  four  this  scene  was  repeated,  and  then  she 
decided  to  act. 

"  Ring  up  the  telegraph-office,  Ruth ;  I'm  going 
to  send  a  dispatch." 

"  Why,  mamma,  probably  the  mail  is  delayed ;  it 
always  is  in  winter.  Besides,  you'll  only  frighten 
father." 

273 


274  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Nonsense ;  two  days  is  a  long  delay  without  the 
excuse  of  a  blockade.  Go  to  the  telephone,  please." 
'  The  telephone  has  been  out  of  order  since 
yesterday,  you  know." 

"  I  had  forgotten.  Well,  one  of  the  maids  must 
go;  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer." 

'  You  can't  send  any  of  the  servants  in  such 
weather;  both  the  maids  have  terrible  colds,  and 
Mary  wouldn't  go  if  you  asked  her.  Listen!  It's 
frightful.  I  promise  to  go  in  the  morning  if  we 
don't  get  a  letter,  but  we  probably  shall.  Let's  play 
checkers  for  a  while."  With  a  forced  stoicism  she 
essayed  to  distract  her  mother's  thoughts,  but  with 
poor  success.  The  wretched  afternoon  drew  to  a 
close;  and  immediately  after  a  show  of  dining,  Mrs. 
Levice  went  to  bed.  At  Ruth's  suggestion  she  took 
some  headache  medicine. 

"  It  will  make  me  sleep,  perhaps,  and  that  will 
be  better  than  worrying  awake  and  unable  to  do 
anything." 

The  opiate  soon  had  its  effect,  and  with  a  sigh  of 
relief  Ruth  heard  her  mother's  regular  breathing. 
It  was  now  her  turn  to  suffer  openly  her  own  fears. 
Louis  had  said  she  would  hear  tonight,  but  at  what 
time?  It  was  now  eight  o'clock,  and  the  bell  might 
ring  at  any  moment.  Mrs.  Levice  slept,  and  Ruth 
sat  dry-eyed  and  alert,  feeling  her  heart  rise  to  her 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  275 

throat  every  time  the  windows  shook  or  the  doors 
rattled.  It  was  one  of  the  wildest  nights  San  Fran 
cisco  had  ever  experienced:  trees  groaned,  gates 
slammed,  and  a  terrific  war  of  the  elements  was 
abroad.  The  wailing  wind  about  the  house  haunted 
her  like  the  desolate  cry  of  someone  begging  for 
shelter.  The  ormolu  clock  ticked  on  and  chimed 
forth  nine.  Still  her  mother  slept.  Ruth  from  her 
chair  could  see  that  her  cheeks  were  unnaturally 
flushed  and  that  her  breathing  was  hurried,  but  any 
degree  of  oblivion  was  better  than  the  impatient  out 
look  for  menacing  tidings.  Despite  the  heated  room, 
her  hands  grew  cold,  and  she  wrapped  them  in  the 
fleecy  shawl  in  which  she  was  enveloped.  The  action 
brought  to  mind  the  way  her  father  had  been  wont 
to  tuck  her  little  hands  under  the  coverlet  when  a 
child,  after  they  had  clung  around  his  neck  in  a  long 
good-night,  and  how  no  sooner  were  they  there 
than  out  they  would  pop  for  "  just  one  squeeze 
more,  father."  How  long  the  good-nights  had  been 
with  this  play !  She  had  never  called  him  "  papa  " 
like  other  children,  but  he  had  always  liked  it  best 
so.  She  brushed  a  few  drops  from  her  lashes  as 
the  sweet  little  chimes  of  the  clock  rang  out  ten 
bells.  She  felt  heartsick  with  her  thoughts,  her 
limbs  ached  with  stiffness,  and  she  began  a  gentle 
walk  up  and  down  the  room.  Would  it  keep  up  all 


276  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

night?  There!  surely  somebody  was  crunching  up 
the  gravel  walk.  With  one  look  at  her  sleeping 
mother,  she  quickly  left  the  room,  closing  the  door 
noiselessly  behind  her.  With  a  palpitating  heart  she 
leaned  over  the  balustrade;  was  it  a  false  alarm, 
after  all  ?  The  next  instant  there  was  a  violent  pull 
at  the  bell,  as  startling  in  the  dead  of  the  night  as  a 
supernatural  summons.  Before  Ruth  could  hurry 
down,  Nora,  looking  greatly  bewildered,  came  out 
of  her  room  and  rushed  to  the  door.  In  a  flash  she 
was  back  again  with  the  telegram  and  had  put  it 
into  Ruth's  hands. 

"  Fifteen  cents'  charges,"  she  said. 

"  Pay  it,"  returned  Ruth. 

As  the  maid  turned  away,  she  tore  open  the 
envelope.  Before  she  could  open  the  form,  a  firm 
hand  was  placed  upon  hers. 

"  Give  me  that,"  said  her  mother's  voice. 

Ruth  recoiled.  Mrs.  Levice  stood  before  her, 
unusually  quiet  in  her  white  nightdress.  With  a 
strong  hand  she  endeavored  to  relax  Ruth's  fingers 
from  the  paper. 

"  But,  mamma,  it  was  addressed  to  me." 

"  It  was  a  mistake,  then ;  I  know  it  was  meant  for 
me.  Let  go  instantly,  or  I'll  tear  the  paper.  Obey 
me,  Ruth." 

Her  voice  sounded  harsh  as  a  man's.     At  the 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  277 

strange  tone  Ruth's  fingers  loosened,  and  Mrs. 
Levice,  taking  the  telegram  reentered  the  room, 
Ruth  following  her  closely. 

Standing  under  the  chandelier,  Mrs.  Levice  read. 
No  change  came  over  her  face.  When  she  had 
finished,  she  handed  the  paper  without  a  word  to 
Ruth.  This  was  the  message: 

RENO,  Jan.  28,  189 — . 
Miss  RUTH  LEVICE,  San  Francisco,  Cal. : 

Found  your  father  very  weak  and  feverish  and  cough 
ing  continually  insists  on  getting  home  immediately,  says 
to  inform  Dr.  Kemp,  who  will  understand  and  have  him 
at  the  house  on  our  arrival  at  n  130  Thursday  no  present 
danger. 

Louis  ARNOLD. 

"  Explain,"  commanded  her  mother,  speaking  in 
her  overwrought  condition  as  if  to  a  stranger. 

"  Get  into  bed  first,  mamma,  or  you'll  take  cold." 

Mrs.  Levice  mechanically  suffered  herself  to  be 
led  there,  and  in  a  few  words  Ruth  explained  what 
she  knew. 

'  You  knew  that  yesterday  before  the  train 
left?" 

"  Yes,  mamma." 

"  And  why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?  I  could  have  gone 
to  him.  Oh,  why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  It  would  have  been  too  late,  dear." 


278  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"No,  it's  too  late  now!  Do  you  hear?  I  will 
never  see  him  again,  and  it's  all  your  fault  —  what 
do  you  know  ?  Stop  crying !  Will  you  stop  crying, 
or  —  " 

"  Mamma,  I'm  not  crying,  you  are  crying,  and 
saying  things  that  aren't  true.  It  won't  be  too  late ; 
perhaps  it's  nothing  but  the  cough.  Louis  says 
there's  no  danger." 

"  Be  still !  "  cried  her  mother,  her  whole  figure 
trembling.  "  I  know  there's  danger  now  —  this 
minute.  Oh,  what  can  I  do,  what  can  I  do !  "  With 
this  cry  all  her  strength  forsook  her  and  she  moaned 
and  laughed  and  swayed  with  the  hysteria  of  long 
ago.  When  Ruth  strove  to  put  her  arms  about  her, 
she  shook  her  off  convulsively. 

"  Don't  touch  me!  "  she  sobbed.  "  It's  all  your 
fault  —  he  wants  me  —  needs  me  —  and,  oh,  look 
at  me  here!  What  a  figure!  Why  do  you  stand 
there  like  a  helpless  ghost?  Go  away.  No,  come 
here !  —  I  want  Dr.  Kemp  —  now,  at  once.  He 
said  to  have  him.  Send  for  him,  Ruth." 

"  On  Thursday  morning,"  she  managed  to 
answer. 

"  No,  now  —  I  must,  must,  must  have  him !  You 
won't  go  ?  Then  I  will.  Get  out  of  my  way !  " 

Ruth,  summoning  all  her  strength,  strove  to  hold 
her  in  her  arms,  all  to  no  avail. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  279 

"  Lie  still,"  she  said  sternly  at  last.  "  I'll  go  for 
Dr.  Kemp." 

"You  can't;  it's  night  and  raining.  Oh,"  she 
continued,  distractedly,  "  I  know  I'm  acting  dread 
fully,  but  he  will  calm  me.  Ruth,  I  want  to  be 
calm  —  I  must  be  calm  —  don't  you  understand?  " 

The  two  maids,  frightened  by  the  disturbance, 
stood  in  the  doorway.  Both  had  their  heads  covered 
with  shawls ;  both  were  suffering  with  severe  colds. 

"  Come  in,  girls.  Stay  here  with  my  mother. 
I'm  going  for  the  doctor." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Ruth,  ain't  you  afraid?  It's  a  awful 
night,  and  black  as  pitch,  and  you  all  alone?  "  asked 
Nora,  with  wide,  frightened  eyes.  "  Let  me  go  with 
you." 

"  No.  I'm  not  afraid,"  said  the  girl,  a  great  calm 
ness  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke  above  her  mother's 
dreary  sobbing.  "  Stay  and  try  to  quiet  her.  I 
won't  be  gone  long." 

She  flew  into  her  room,  drew  on  her  overshoes 
and  mackintosh,  grasped  a  sealskin  cap,  which  she 
tied  securely  under  her  chin,  and  went  out  into  the 
howling,  raging  night. 

She  had  only  a  few  blocks  to  go,  but  under  ordi 
nary  circumstances  the  undertaking  would  have 
been  disagreeable  enough.  The  rain  came  down  in 
heavy,  wild  torrents ;  the  wind  roared  madly,  wrap- 


280  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

ping  her  skirts  about  her  limbs  and  making  walking 
almost  an  impossibility;  the  darkness  was  impen 
etrable  save  for  the  sickly,  quavering  light  shed  by 
the  few  street-lamps,  as  far  apart  as  angel  visitants. 
Lowering  her  head  and  keeping  her  figure  as  erect 
as  possible,  she  struggled  bravely  on.  She  met 
scarcely  anyone,  and  those  she  did  meet  occasioned 
her  little  uneasiness  in  the  flood  of  unusual  emotions 
overwhelming  her  soul.  At  any  other  time  the 
thought  of  her  destination  would  have  blotted  out 
every  other  perception;  now  this  was  but  one  of 
many  shuddering  visions.  Trouble  was  making  her 
strong;  life  could  offer  her  little  that  would  find  her 
unequal  to  the  test.  Down  the  broad,  deserted  ave 
nue,  with  its  dark,  imposing  mansions  and  wildly 
swaying  trees,  she  hurried  as  if  she  were  alone  in 
the  havocking  elements.  The  rain  beat  her  and 
lashed  her  in  the  face;  she  faced  it  unflinchingly  as 
a  small  part  of  her  trials.  Without  a  tremor  she 
ran  up  Dr.  Kemp's  steps.  It  was  only  when  she 
stood  with  her  finger  on  the  bell-button  that  she 
realized  whom  she  was  about  to  encounter.  Then 
for  the  first  time  she  gave  one  long  sob  of  self- 
recollection  —  and  pushed  the  button. 

Burke  almost  immediately  opened  the  door. 
Ruth  had  no  intention  of  entering.  It  would  be 
sufficient  to  leave  her  message  and  hurry  home. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  281 

"Who's  there?"  asked  Burke,  peering  out  into 
the  darkness.  "  It's  a  divil  of  a  night  for  anyone 
but  —  " 

"  Is  Dr.  Kemp  in  ?  "  The  sweet  woman-voice  so 
startled  him  that  he  opened  the  door  wide. 

"  Come  in,  mum,"  he  said  apologetically,  "  Come 
in  out  of  the  night." 

"  No.    Is  the  doctor  in?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  grumbled,  "  and  I  can't  stand 
here  with  the  door  open." 

"  Close  it,  then,  but  see  if  he's  in,  please." 

"  I'll  lave  it  open,  and  ye  can  come  in  or  stay  out 
according  if  ye're  dry-humored  or  wet-soled." 
He  shuffled  off  angrily.  The  door  was  open !  Her 
father  had  assured  her  of  that  once  —  long  ago. 
Inside  were  warmth  and  light;  outside,  in  the 
shadow,  were  cold  and  darkness.  Here  she  stood. 
—  Would  the  man  never  return  ?  Ah,  here  he  came 
hurrying  along.  She  drew  nearer  the  door,  but 
within  a  half-foot  she  stood  still  with  locked  jaw 
and  swimming  senses. 

"  My  good  woman,"  came  the  grave,  kindly  voice 
which  calmed  while  it  unnerved  her,  "  come  in  and 
speak  to  me  here.  Am  I  wanted  anywhere?  Come 
in,  please,  the  door  must  be  closed.'' 

With  almost  superhuman  will  she  drew  herself 
together,  and  came  closer.  Seeing  the  dark,  moving 


282  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

figure,  he  opened  the  door  wide,  and  she  stepped  in. 
As  it  closed  she  faced  him,  turning  up  her  white, 
haggard  face  to  his. 

"You!" 

He  recoiled,  but  recovered  himself  almost  in 
stantly.  "  What  is  it?  "  he  asked  in  hoarse  brusque- 
ness. 

"  My  mother."  She  spoke  nervously,  her  dark 
eyes  sadly  holding  his.  "  She's  in  a  frightfully 
hysterical  condition,  and  only  calls  for  you.  Will 
you  come  ?  " 

"  Surely."  But  he  did  not  move.  He  stood  rigid 
before  her,  conscious  only  that  she  was  there,  alone 
with  him  again,  his  eyes  enfolding  her. 

His  arms  went  out  to  her.    "  Ruth,"  he  implored. 

She  put  out  protesting  hands.  "  Don't,"  she 
begged.  "  Only  come.  I  need  you  so !  " 

The  appeal  steadied  him.  "  Wait  a  minute.  I'll 
ring  for  my  carriage  and  —  " 

"  No,  no,  please  don't  wait  for  anything.  Please 
come  at  once."  She  turned  blindly  from  him  to 
the  door,  and  he  rushed  into  his  office,  seized  a 
small  emergency  case  and,  throwing  on  overcoat 
and  hat,  in  another  minute  was  running  down  the 
steps  after  her. 

At  this  juncture  the  storm  seemed  to  reach  its 
climax,  and  he  gained  her  side,  breathless,  as  she 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  283 

ineffectually  strove  to  hurry  on  against  the  raging 
wind. 

"  Take  my  arm,"  he  ordered,  and  drew  her  arm 
firmly  through  his. 

All  along  this  block  of  Van  Ness  Avenue  the  row 
of  heavy-foliaged  eucalyptus  trees  bordering  the 
broad  pavement  tossed  and  creaked  and  moaned  in 
the  fury  of  the  tempest.  One  violent  broadside 
almost  lifted  the  two  pedestrians  off  their  feet,  and 
as  a  heavy  limb  fell  with  a  sudden  crash  Kemp  was 
just  quick  enough  to  throw  her  to  the  other  side  of 
him  out  of  its  reach. 

"  You're  hurt,"  she  cried  above  the  uproar,  her 
hands  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  No,"  he  laughed  in  mad  recklessness,  shaking 
himself  like  a  huge  mastiff  while  his  hands  pinioned 
hers  where  they  had  fallen.  "  Only  wet  and  leafy 
and  terribly  —  " 

"  Oh,  let  go!  "  she  begged  frantically. 

But  the  storm  had  taken  him  and  he  held  her  close 
within  his  arms,  mad  as  the  wind  roaring  and  rav 
ing  about  them,  and  as  inarticulate. 

When  his  hold  relaxed,  penitent,  he  let  her  draw 
from  him  but  retained  tight  hold  of  her  wrists. 
"  Forgive  me,"  he  struggled  to  say,  "I  —  " 

"  Come  now,"  he  faintly  heard,  and,  humbly,  he 
drew  her  arm  again  through  his  and  they  moved  on 


284  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

through  the  steady  downpour  and  against  the  abat 
ing  wind. 

"  Dearest,"  he  pleaded,  "  can't  it  be?  " 
For  a  space  she  did  not  answer,  she  was  still  too 
elementally  shaken,  too  uprooted  from  her  selfless 
fortitude,  to  find  her  former  grasp  of  things.  When 
she  did  speak  her  voice  was  so  low  he  had  to  strain 
all  his  faculties  to  hear  above  the  whimper  of  wind 
and  rain,  the  sharp  click  of  their  hurrying  feet. 

"  We  are  both  —  unnerved,"  she  said.  "  We 
were  unprepared  —  for  this  meeting.  It  must  not 
happen  again  —  what  has  just  happened.  Because 

—  it  is  always  going  to  be  the  same.    He  knows  — 
better.    His  wisdom  of  experience  is  wiser  than  our 
wisdom    of    instinct.      At   least  —  I    am    teaching 
myself  to  believe  that.     Try  to  teach  yourself  too. 
Sometimes   things  —  little   things  —  have  come  to 
me.  .  Little  things  in  which  even  you  showed  that, 
subconsciously,  you  felt  —  differences." 

"Differences?" 

"Racial  differences.  As  if  —  at  root  —  you 
thought  Jew  and  Christian  were  inexorably  asunder 

—  made  of  different  clay." 

"  Jew  and  Christian !  I  don't  know  them.  Men 
and  women,  yes.  But  you  are  you  and  I  am  I,  and 
we  met  and  loved,  without  prejudice.  And  so,  indi 
vidually  speaking,  we  know  there  is  no  difference." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  285 

"  Ah,  individually  speaking !  Do  you  note  your 
fine  distinction?  Always  the  one  Jew,  the  excep 
tional  Jew,  who  has  found  favor  in  your  eyes! 
Involuntarily  the  Christian  mind  always  rears  its 
ghettoes.  And  in  that  mental  ghetto,  I  want  you  to 
know,  I  belong  —  and  proudly." 

"  Ghettoes !  I  am  not  a  medievalist,  my  darling. 
Have  you  forgotten  your  story  of  the  Rose  of 
Sharon?  You  see,  I've  learned  my  lesson  too,  and 
it  can  never  be  unlearned  again.  Let  your  father 
remember  that  when  next  he  brands  the  abstract 
i  Christian  mind,'  as  you  put  it  —  with  ghetto-build 
ing.  Some  of  us  can  learn  to  build  higher.  And 
you  —  such  as  you  —  are  our  divine  teachers." 

Again  she  did  not  answer.  Her  head  was  bent 
and  he  saw  her  tears  were  falling. 

"  Am  I  hurting  you  again  ?  "  he  asked  miserably. 

"  N-no  —  not  hurting  me.  Only  —  he  doesn't 
see  it  as  we  —  as  you  do.  He  thinks  of  —  the 
general  prejudice  —  the  outside  —  the  social  dis 
tinctions  that  might  creep  in  to  separate — .  But 
tonight  —  oh,  tonight,  can't  we  just  be  friends?  " 

"  We  can  be  anything  you  want  us  to  be,"  he  said 
very  quietly. 

"  Thanks,"  she  whispered.  After  a  little  she  told 
him  of  her  father's  illness  and  of  Louis'  disturbing 
message  about  his,  Kemp's,  "  understanding." 


286  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  strictly  professional  in  response 
to  her  question,  "  I  do  understand.  Your  father 
came  to  me  last  year,  probably  as  early  as  February, 
complaining  of  a  cough  that  annoyed  him  nights 
and  mornings.  He  told  me  that  whenever  he  felt 
it  coming  on  he  went  into  another  room  so  as  not 
to  disturb  your  mother.  I  examined  him  and  found 
he  was  suffering  from  the  first  stages  of  asthma,  one 
—  you  knew  nothing  of  this?  " 

"  Nothing.    Don't  try  to  spare  me.    One  —  ?  " 

"  Don't  rush  to  the  worst  conclusion.  One  of  his 
lungs  I  found  slightly  diseased,  but  —  " 

"His  lung!" 

"  Dearest,  I  want  you  to  trust  me.  Many  a  man 
has  lived  to  second  childhood  with  asthma,  and  the 
partial  loss  of  a  lung  is  not  necessarily  fatal.  He 
knew  this,  and  with  the  treatment  and  careful  living 
was  getting  along  capitally.  I  examined  him  several 
times  and  found  no  increase  in  the  loss  of  tissue. 
He  wasn't  coughing  so  much,  he  told  me." 

"  But  just  before  he  left  he  was  coughing  a  good 
deal." 

"  Ah.  I  haven't  seen  him  for  several  months, 
you  know." 

"  No.  Then  you  think  the  asthma  made  the  pneu 
monia  more  —  dangerous?"  Her  voice  was  taut 
and  stern,  but  peremptory. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  287 

"In  all  probability  —  I  fear  so." 

"  Yes." 

They  had  reached  the  house  and  went  silently 
and  quickly  up  the  path  and  steps  into  the  vestibule. 
He  took  the  key  from  her. 

"  One  word,"  he  said  authoritatively.  "  You're 
not  to  take  that  hopeless  view.  Between  us  —  you 
and  me  —  we'll  keep  him." 

Swiftly,  in  a  passion  of  gratitude,  before  he  could 
grasp  her  intention,  she  had  taken  his  face  between 
her  hands  and  kissed  him  on  the  eyes. 

"  Dedication,"  she  whispered  impetuously,  and 
passed  fleetly  within  as  Nora  opened  the  door. 

"  I  heard  you's  coming,"  the  maid  explained. 
"  And  oh,  Miss  Ruth,  do  hurry  —  she's  doin'  nothin' 
now  but  stare  —  and  it's  awful." 

They  found  her  indeed  as  the  maid  had  described, 
sitting  up  in  bed,  the  room  in  a  blaze  of  light. 

"  Now,  dear  lady,"  he  began  in  gentle  firmness, 
but  she  held  up  a  peremptory  hand. 

"  First  tell  me  —  without  reservations  —  what 
do  you  know  about  my  husband's  health  ?  "  She 
spoke  in  harsh  intensity. 

"  Certainly."  He  lowered  the  blazing  lights, 
beginning  at  once  to  tell  her  what,  in  the  main,  he 
had  told  Ruth,  but  softening  the  details. 

"  And  you  think  —  " 


288  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  That  it  can't  be  so  serious,  since  he  can  travel." 

Her  throat  moved  spasmodically,  her  lips  quiv 
ered  painfully  in  her  effort  toward  calmness,  and  he 
gently  placed  her  back  among  the  pillows,  asking 
Ruth  for  water  for  a  powder. 

Together  they  administered  it.  Very  slightly  he 
used  his  power  of  hypnosis,  and  presently  the  stare 
in  the  brilliant  eyes  relaxed,  the  lids  drooped,  and 
they  saw  her  breathing  the  even  breath  of  sleep. 

He  turned  to  Ruth  still  in  her  outdoor  things. 
"  Change  everything  you  have  on,"  he  said  in  a 
low  tone.  "  Or,  better,  go  to  bed.  I'll  stay  through 
the  night." 

"Is  it  necessary?" 

"  No.    I  want  to."    He  smiled  softly  upon  her. 

Her  eyelids  fluttered.  "  Aren't  you  —  aren't 
your  feet  wet?  " 

"  No.  I'm  water-proof.  And  this  splendid  fire 
will  warm  me.  Get  out  of  those  wet  things  as 
quickly  as  possible." 

As  he  drew  up  a  deep  chair  before  the  fire,  pre 
pared  to  make  himself  comfortable,  she  went  with 
out  a  word. 

She  did  as,  he  had  bidden,  slipping  into  a  loose, 
dull-red  gown  against  which  her  throat  and  face 
gleamed  in  spiritual  softness.  Then,  without  ques 
tion,  she  went  back  to  her  mother's  bedroom,  enter- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  289 

ing  noiselessly,  and  slipping  into  a  corner  of  a 
remote  couch. 

Without  turning,  he  knew  she  was  there,  but  he 
made  no  move  to  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  the  situa 
tion.  The  sweet  intimacy  of  the  moment  drove  into 
his  senses  —  as  to  hers  —  despite  the  miserable  gulf 
separating  them,  and  they  were  content  to  let  peace 
hold  them.  The  mother,  the  inadvertent  cause  of 
drawing  them  together,  last  as  first,  slept  on,  and 
he  and  she,  the  only  waking  mortals  in  the  great 
house,  kept  silent  vigil. 

Ruth,  her  cheek  pressed  against  the  cushion, 
looked  beyond  with  fixed  gaze.  She  could  see  the 
crown  of  his  dark  head  above  the  top  of  his  chair, 
his  knees  and  feet.  But  she  looked  beyond.  Pres 
ently,  in  the  utter  quiet,  a  great  weariness  wrought 
of  the  storm  and  stress  of  the  night  overtook  her, 
her  temples  throbbed  painfully,  and  she  closed  her 
eyes.  As  night  waxed  into  morning  she  fell  into 
a  troubled  sleep.  Once  she  gave  a  quivering  sigh, 
and  he  turned.  His  gaze  wandered  searchingly 
about  the  room  till  it  found  a  soft  robe  thrown  over 
the  arm  of  a  chair.  His  step  made  no  sound  in  the 
deep  carpet  as  he  came  with  it  toward  her.  Tuck 
ing  it  lightly  about  her,  he  saw,  with  an  inward 
groan,  the  change  upon  her  sleeping  face  —  the 
dark  shadows  about  her  eyes,  not  caused  by  the 


290  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

curling  lashes,  her  close-pressed,  pathetically  droop 
ing  mouth,  the  blue  veins  in  her  temples  — 

He  returned  to  his  seat  with  stern  eyes. 

It  was  five  o'clock  before  either  mother  or  daugh 
ter  opened  her  eyes,  and  then  they  started  up  simul 
taneously.  Ruth  noticed  the  warm  robe  about  her 
and  her  eyes  sped  to  the  doctor.  He,  however,  was 
speaking  to  her  mother  who,  in  the  dim  light,  looked 
pale  but  calm. 

"Then  you'll  be  here  tomorrow  morning?"  she 
was  saying. 

"  I'll  manage  to  meet  him  at  Oakland  with  a 
closed  carriage." 

"  You  are  very,  very  good.  May  I  —  go  with 
you?" 

"  No  —  pardon  me,  but  it  will  be  best  for  you  to 
receive  him  at  home.  There  must  be  nothing  what 
ever  to  disturb  him.  Have  everything  ready  — 
especially  yourself." 

"  I  shall  be  ready.  I  don't  know  how  to  thank 
you."  She  held  out  both  her  hands.  "  Will  you 
let  Ruth  show  you  to  a  room,  and  when  you  have 
rested  —  " 

"  I  have  rested,"  he  said,  looking  at  his  watch. 
"  I  must  hurry  home  now.  Good-bye,  and  remem 
ber  there  may  be  no  cause  for  anxiety." 

Ruth   followed  him  silently  down  to  the  door. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  291 

"  Is  there  any  preparation  I  can  make  ?  "  she  asked 
as  he  slipped  into  his  overcoat. 

"  No,  only  have  his  bed  and  hot-water  bottles 
ready.  And  —  will  you  take  care  of  yourself?  " 

She  smiled,  not  daring  to  speak  in  the  tender  light 
of  his  tired  eyes. 

Bending  his  head  in  good-bye,  he  quickly  opened 
the  door  arid  as  quickly  closed  it  behind  him. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  sun  shone  with  its  usual  winter  favoritism 
upon  San  Francisco  this  Thursday  morning. 
After  the  rain  the  air  felt  as  exhilarating  as  a  day 
in  spring.  Young  girls  tripped  forth  "  in  their 
figures,"  as  the  French  have  it,  and  even  the  matrons 
unfastened  their  wraps  under  the  genial  wooing  of 
sunbeams. 

Everything  was  quiet  about  the  Levice  home. 
Neither  Ruth  nor  her  mother  felt  inclined  to  talk, 
so  when  Mrs.  Levice  took  up  her  position  in  her 
husband's  room,  Ruth  wandered  downstairs.  The 
silence  seemed  vocal  with  her  fears. 

"  And  I  tell  ye's  two,"  remarked  the  cook,  as  her 
young  mistress  passed  from  the  kitchen,  "  that 
darter  and  father  is  more  than  kin,  they  is  soul-kin, 
if  ye  know  what  that  manes;  an'  the  boss's  girl  do 
love  him  more'n  seven  times  seven  children  which 
such  a  man-angel  should  'a'  had."  For  the  "  boss  " 
was  to  those  who  served  him  "  little  lower  than  the 
angels,"  and  their  prayers  the  night  before  had  held 
an  eloquent  appeal  for  his  welfare. 

292 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  293 

Ruth,  her  face  against  the  window,  watched  in 
sickening  anxiety.  She  knew  they  were  not  to  be 
expected  for  some  time,  but  it  was  better  to  stand 
here  than  in  the  fear-haunted  background. 

Suddenly,  and  almost  miraculously  it  seemed  to 
her,  a  carriage  stood  before  the  gate.  She  flew  to 
the  door,  and  as  she  opened  it  leaned  for  one  second 
blindly  against  the  wall. 

"  Tell  my  mother  they've  come,"  she  gasped  to 
the  maid,  who  had  entered  the  hall. 

Then  she  looked  out.  Two  men  were  carrying 
one  between  them  up  the  walk.  As  they  came 
nearer,  she  saw  how  it  was.  That  bundled-up 
figure  was  her  father's;  that  emaciated,  dark,  fur 
rowed  face  was  her  father's;  but,  as  they  carefully 
helped  him  up  the  steps,  and  the  loud,  painful, 
panting  breaths  came  to  her,  were  they  her  father's 
too  ?  Helpless,  she  stood  against  the  wall  —  a  pic 
ture  of  frustrated  love. 

She  paused  in  agony  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  as 
the  closing  door  shut  out  the  dreadful  sound.  An 
implacable  shadow  fell  upon  her  —  for  the  first 
time  she  faced  the  inexorable,  and  burying  her  face 
in  her  hands,  she  strove  to  shut  out  the  vision. 

He  had  not  seen  her ;  his  eyes  had  been  closed  as 
if  in  exhaustion  as  they  gently  helped  him  along, 
and  she  had  understood  at  once  that  the  only  tiling 


294  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

to  be  thought  of  was,  by  some  manner  of  means,  to 
remove  the  choking  obstacle  from  his  lungs.  Oh, 
to  be  able  in  her  young  strength  to  hold  the  weak, 
loved  form  in  her  arms  and  breathe  into  him  her 
overflowing  life-breath!  She  walked  upstairs  pres 
ently;  he  would  be  expecting  her.  As  she  reached 
the  upper  landing,  Kemp  came  from  the  room,  clos 
ing  the  door  behind  him.  His  bearing  revealed  a 
gravity  she  had  never  witnessed  before.  In  his 
tightly  buttoned  morning-suit  he  might  have  been 
officiating  at  some  solemn  ceremonial.  He  stood 
still  as  Ruth  confronted  him  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  and  met  her  lovely,  miserable  eyes  with  grave 
sympathy.  She  essayed  to  speak,  but  succeeded  only 
in  gazing  at  him  in  speechless  entreaty. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  he  responded  to  her  silent  appeal ; 
"  you  were  shocked  at  what  you  heard :  it  was  the 
asthma  —  it  has  completely  overpowered  him.  The 
pneumonia  has  made  him  extremely  weak." 

"And  you  think  —  " 

"  We  must  wait  till  he  has  rested ;  the  trip  was 
severe  for  him  in  his  condition." 

"  Tell  me  the  truth,  please,  with  no  reservations. 
Is  there  danger  ?  " 

Her  eager,  abrupt  questions  told  clearly  what  she 
was  suffering. 

"He  has  never  had  any  serious  illness;  if  the 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  295 

asthma  has  not  overleaped  itself,  we  have  much  to 
hope  for." 

The  intended  consolation  conveyed  a  contrary 
admission  which  she  immediately  grasped. 

"  That  means  —  the  worst,"  she  said,  her  clasped 
fingers  speaking  the  language  of  despair.  "  Oh, 
you,  you  who  know  so  much,  can't  you  help  him? 
Think,  think  of  everything;  there  must  be  some 
thing!  Do  something  —  dear — for  my  sake!" 

His  grave,  tender  eyes  answered  her  silently  as 
he  took  both  her  little  clasped  hands  in  his  one 
strong  one,  saying  simply  — 

"  Trust  me,  but  only  so  far  as  lies  within  my 
human  power.  He  is  somewhat  eased  already,  and 
asks  for  you.  Look  at  your  mother:  she  is  sur 
passing  herself.  If  your  love  for  him  can  achieve 
one-half  such  a  conquest,  you'll  only  be  making 
good  your  inheritance.  I'll  be  in  again  at  one,  and 
will  send  some  medicines  up  at  once."  He  ended 
in  his  usual  matter-of-fact  tone,  and  went  hurriedly 
down  the  stairs. 

There  was  perfect  quiet  in  the  room  when  Ruth 
entered.  Propped  high  by  many  pillows,  Jules 
Levice  lay  in  his  bed,  his  wife's  arm  about  him.  His 
head  rested  on  her  bosom ;  with  her  one  disengaged 
hand  she  smoothed  his  white  hair.  Never  was  the 
difference  between  them  more  marked  than  now, 


296  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

when  her  beautiful  face  shone  above  his  with  the 
touch  of  the  destroyer  already  upon  it;  never  was 
the  love  between  them  more  marked  than  now,  when 
he  leaned  in  his  weakness  upon  her  who  had  never 
failed  him  in  all  their  wedded  years. 

His  eyes  were  half  closed  as  if  in  rest;  but  he 
heard  the  opening  door,  and  Mrs.  Levice  felt  the 
tremor  that  passed  over  him  as  Ruth  approached. 

"  My  child." 

The  softly  whispered  love-name  of  old  made  her 
tremble;  she  smiled  through  her  tears,  but  when 
his  feeble  arms  strove  to  draw  her  to  him,  she 
stooped,  and  laying  them  about  her  neck,  placed 
her  cheek  upon  his.  For  some  minutes  these  three 
remained  knit  in  a  close  embrace.  Love,  strong 
and  tender,  spoke  and  answered  in  that  silence. 

"  It's  —  good  —  to  be  at  home/'  he  said,  speak 
ing  with  difficulty. 

"  It  wasn't  home  without  you,  dear,"  murmured 
his  wife,  laying  her  lips  softly  on  his  brow.  Ruth, 
kneeling  beside  the  bedr  noticed  how  loosely  the 
signet-ring  he  wore  hung  on  his  slender  finger. 

"  You  look  ill,  my  Ruth,"  he  said,  after  a  pause. 
"  Lay  my  head  down,  Esther  —  you  must  be  tired. 
Sit  before  me,  dear,  I  want  to  see  your  two  faces 
together." 

His  gaunt  eyes  flitted  from  one  to  the  other. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  297 

"  It's  a  fair  picture  to  —  take  with  one,"  he 
whispered,  his  eyes  wistfully  smiling  upon  them. 

"  To  keep  with  one,"  softly  trembled  his  wife's 
voice.  His  eyes  met  hers  in  a  commiserating  smile. 

Suddenly  he  started  up. 

"  Ruth,"  he  gasped,  "  will  you  go  to  Louis?  He 
must  be  worn  out." 

She  left  the  room  hurriedly.  Her  faint  knock 
was  not  immediately  answered,  and  she  called  softly. 
Receiving  no  reply,  she  turned  the  knob  and  it 
yielded  to  her  hand.  Sunbeams  danced  merrily 
about  the  room  of  the  young  man,  who  sat  in  their 
light  in  a  hopeless  attitude.  He  evidently  had  made 
no  change  in  his  dress,  and  as  Ruth  stood  unnoticed 
beside  him  her  eyes  wandered  over  his  gray,  un 
shaven  face,  travel-stained  and  weary  to  a  sad 
degree.  She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Louis,"  she  whispered  gently. 

He  shook  under  her  touch,  but  made  no  further 
sign  that  he  knew  of  her  presence. 

:<  You  must  be  so  tired,  Louis,"  she  continued 
sympathetically. 

It  may  have  been  the  words,  it  may  have  been  the 
tone,  it  may  have  been  (hat  she  touched  some  hidden 
thought,  for  suddenly,  without  premonition,  his 
breast  heaved,  and  he  sobbed  heavily,  as  only  a  man 
can  sob,  without  a  tear. 


298  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

She  started  back  in  pain.  That  emotion  could  so 
unstring  Louis  Arnold  was  a  revelation.  It  did  not 
last  long,  and  as  he  rose  from  his  chair  he  spoke 
in  his  accustomed,  quiet  tone. 

"  Forgive  my  unmanliness,"  he  said.  "  It  was 
kind  of  you  to  come  to  me." 

'  You  look  very  ill,  Louis.  Can't  I  bring  you 
something  to  eat  or  drink  —  or  will  you  lie  down? 
You  so  need  rest." 

"  We  shall  see.  Is  there  anything  you  would 
like  to  ask  me?  " 

"  Nothing." 

After  a  pause,  he  said : 

"  You  must  not  be  hopeless ;  he  is  in  good  hands, 
and  everything  that  can  be  done  will  be  done.  Is 
he  resting  now?  " 

"  Yes ;  if  to  breathe  like  that  is  to  rest.  Oh,  Louis, 
when  I  think  how  for  months  he  has  suffered  alone, 
it  almost  drives  me  crazy." 

"Why  think  of  it,  then?  Or,  if  you  must,  re 
member  that  in  his  surpassing  unselfishness  he 
saved  you  much  anxiety;  for  you  could  not  have 
helped  him." 

"  Not  with  our  sympathy?  " 

"  Not  him,  Ruth ;  to  know  that  you  suffered  for 
him  was  —  would  have  been  his  crowning  sorrow. 
Is  there  anything  I  can  do  now?  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  299 

"  No,  only  think  of  yourself  for  a  moment;  per 
haps  you  can  rest  a  little  —  you  need  it,  dear." 

A  flame  of  color  burned  in  his  cheek  at  the 
unusual  endearment. 

"  I'll  bring  you  a  cup  of  tea  presently,"  she  said 
as  she  left  him. 

The  morning  passed  into  afternoon.  Silence  hung 
upon  the  house.  A  card  had  been  pinned  under 
the  door-bell,  and  the  many  friends  who,  in  the  short 
time  since  the  sick  man's  arrival,  had  heard  of  his 
illness,  dropped  in  quietly,  and  left  as  they  came. 

Kemp  came  in  after  luncheon.  Mr.  Levice  was 
sleeping  —  in  all  truth,  one  could  not  say  easily,  but 
the  doctor  counted  much  from  the  rest.  He  ex 
pected  Dr.  Harvey  for  a  consultation.  This  he  had 
done  upon  his  own  initiative,  as  a  voucher,  and  a 
comforting  assurance  to  Mrs.  Levice  that  nothing 
would  be  left  undone.  Dr.  Harvey  came  in  blandly ; 
he  went  out  gravely.  There  was  little  to  be  said. 

Kemp  walked  thoughtfully  upstairs  after  his  col 
league  had  left,  and  went  straight  to  Arnold's  room. 
The  freedom  of  the  house  was  his;  he  had  estab 
lished  himself  as  one  of  the  family  without  explana 
tion  or  ado. 

"  Mr.  Arnold,"  he  said  to  the  Frenchman,  who 
quickly  rose  from  his  desk,  "  I  want  you  to  prepare 
your  aunt  and  cousin  for  the  worst.  You  know 


300  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

that;  but  if  he  should  have  a  spell  of  coughing,  the 
end  might  be  sudden. " 

A  cold  pallor  overspread  Louis's  face  at  the  con 
firmation  of  his  unquestioning  fears. 

He  bowed  slightly  and  cleared  his  throat  before 
answering.  "  There  will  be  no  necessity,"  he  said ; 
"  my  uncle  intends  doing  so  himself." 

"  He  mustn't  hasten  it  by  excitement,"  said  Kemp, 
moving  toward  the  door. 

"  That  is  unavoidable,"  returned  Arnold.  "  You 
must  know  he  had  an  object  in  hurrying  home." 

"  I  did  not  know ;  but  we  must  try  to  prevent 
any  unnecessary  effort  to  speak.  You  can  do  that, 
I  think." 

"  I  cannot." 

"  You  know  that  he  has  something  important  to 
say?" 

"  I  do." 

"Then  for  his  sake  —  " 

"  And  for  the  others,  he  must  be  allowed  to 
speak." 

Kemp  regarded  him  steadily,  wondering  wherein 
lay  the  impression  of  concealed  power  which 
emanated  from  this  delicate-visaged  man.  He  left 
the  room  without  further  parley. 

"  Dr.  Harvey  must  have  gone  to  school  with 
you,"  panted  Levice,  as  Kemp  entered ;  "  even  his 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  301 

eyes  have  been  educated  to  express  the  same  secrecy 
—  except  for  a  little  —  " 

"There,  there,"  quieted  Kemp;  "don't  exhaust 
yourself.  Miss  Levice,  that  fan,  please.  A  little 
higher?  How's  that?" 

"  Don't  go,  doctor,"  said  Levice,  feebly.  "  I  have 
something  to  say,  to  do,  and  you  —  I  want  you  — 
give  me  something  —  I  must  say  it  now.  Esther, 
where  are  you  ?  " 

"  Here,  love." 

"  Mr.  Levice,  you  must  not  talk  now,"  put  in 
Kemp,  authoritatively.  "  Whatever  you  have  to 
say  will  last  till  morning." 

"And  I?" 

"  And  you.     Now  try  to  go  to  sleep." 

Mrs.  Levice  followed  him  to  the  door. 

'  You  spoke  just  now  of  a  nurse,"  she  said 
through  pale  lips ;  "  I  won't  need  one :  I  alone  can 
nurse  him." 

"  There  is  much  required ;  I  doubt  if  you  are 
strong  enough." 

"  I  am  strong." 

He  clasped  her  hand  close.  "  I  know.  But  it  will 
be  best  —  while  I'm  away.  I'll  come  in  and  stay 
with  you  tonight,"  he  said  simply. 

"You!    Why  should  you?" 

"  Because  I  too  love  him." 


302  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Her  mouth  trembled  and  the  lines  of  her  face 
quivered,  but  she  drew  her  hand  quickly  over  it. 

Kemp  gave  one  sharp  glance  over  to  the  bed. 
Ruth  had  laid  her  head  beside  her  father's  and  held 
his  hand.  In  such  a  house,  in  most  Jewish  houses, 
nursing  is  of  a  calling  that  needs  little  training. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

SHAFTS  of  pale  sunlight  darted  into  the  room 
and  rested  on  Mr.  Levice's  hair,  covering  it 
with  a  silver  glory.  They  trailed  along  the  silken 
coverlet,  but  stopped  there,  one  little  beam  straying 
slowly,  and  almost  as  if  with  intention,  toward 
Arnold,  seated  near  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Ruth, 
lovely  in  her  pallor,  sat  near  him;  Mrs.  Levice,  on 
the  farther  side  of  the  bed,  leaned  back  in  her  chair 
placed  close  to  her  husband's  pillow.  More  remote, 
though  inadvertently  so,  sat  Dr.  Kemp.  It  was  by 
Mr.  Levice's  desire  that  these  four  had  assembled 
here. 

He  was  sitting  up,  supported  by  many  pillows; 
his  face  shone  hollow  and  colorless;  his  hands  lay 
listlessly  upon  the  counterpane.  No  one  touched 
him ;  bathed  in  sunlight,  as  he  was,  the  others  seemed 
in  shadow.  When  he  spoke  his  voice  was  almost  a 
whisper,  but  it  was  distinctly  audible  to  the  four 
intent  listeners ;  only  the  clock  seemed  to  accompany 
his  staccato  speech,  running  a  race,  as  it  were,  with 
his  failing  strength. 


304  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  It's  a  beautiful  world,"  he  said  dreamily,  "  a 
very  beautiful  world."  The  sunbeams  kissed  his 
pale  hands  as  if  thanking  him.  No  one  stirred  — 
who  were  they  to  arrest  his  climbing  soul?  Finally 
he  realized  that  all  were  waiting  for  him,  and 
thought  sprang,  strong  and  powerful,  to  his  face. 

"  Dr.  Kemp,"  he  began  very  laboredly,  but 
clearly,  "  I  have  something  to  say  to  you  —  to  you 
in  particular,  and  to  my  daughter  Ruth.  My  wife 
and  nephew  know,  in  brief,  what  I  have  to  say; 
therefore  I  need  not  dwell  on  the  painful  event  that 
happened  here  last  September.  You  will  pardon 
me,  when  you  see  the  necessity,  for  my  reverting 
to  it  at  all." 

Everyone's  eyes  rested  upon  him  —  that  is,  all 
but  Arnold's,  which  seemed  holding  some  secret 
communion  with  the  cupids  on  the  ceiling  —  and 
the  look  of  convulsive  agony  sweeping  across  Ruth's 
face  was  unnoticed. 

"  In  all  my  long,  diversified  life,"  he  went  on,  "  I 
had  never  suffered  as  I  did  after  she  told  me  her 
decision  —  for  in  all  those  years  no  one  had  ever 
been  made  to  suffer  through  me ;  that  is,  so  far  as  I 
knew.  Unconsciously,  or  in  anger,  I  may  have  hurt 
many,  but  never,  as  in  this  case,  with  knowledge 
aforethought  —  when  the  blow  fell  upon  my  own 
child.  You  will  understand,  and  perhaps  for- 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  305 

give,  when  I  say  I  gave  no  thought  to  you.  She 
came  to  me  with  her  sweet,  renunciating  hands  held 
out,  and  with  a  smile  of  self-forgetfulness,  said, 
'  Father,  you  are  right ;  I  could  not  be  happy  with 
this  man/  At  the  moment  I  believed  her,  thinking 
she  had  adopted  my  views ;  but,  with  all  her  bravery, 
her  real  feelings  conquered  her,  and  I  saw.  Not 
that  she  had  spoken  untruly,  but  she  had  implied 
the  truth  only  in  part.  I  knew  my  child  loved  me, 
and  she  meant  honestly  that  my  pain  would  rob 
her  of  perfect  happiness  with  you  —  my  pain  would 
form  an  eclipse  strong  enough  to  darken  every  joy. 
Do  you  think  this  knowledge  made  me  glad  or 
proud?  Do  you  know  how  love,  that,  in  with 
holding,  justifies  itself,  suffers  from  the  pain 
inflicted  ?  But  I  said,  '  After  all,  it  is  as  I  think ; 
she  will  thank  me  for  it  some  day/  I  was  not  alto 
gether  selfish,  please  remember.  Then,  when  I  saw 
her  silent  wrestling,  came  distrust  of  myself;  I 
remembered  I  was  pitted  against  two,  younger  and 
no  more  fallible  than  myself.  As  soon  as  doubt 
of  myself  attacked  me,  I  strove  to  look  on  the  other 
side.  I  strove  to  rid  myself  of  the  old  prejudices, 
the  old  superstitions,  the  old  narrowness  of  tradi 
tions.  It  was  useless  —  I  was  too  old,  and  my 
prejudices  had  become  part  of  me.  It  was  in  this 
state  of  perturbation  that  I  had  gone  one  day  up  to 


306  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

the  top  floor  of  the  Palace  Hotel.  Thank  you, 
doctor/' 

The  latter  had  quietly  risen  and  administered  a 
stimulant.  As  he  resumed  his  seat,  Levice  con 
tinued  : 

"  I  was  seated  at  a  window  overlooking  Market 
Street.  Below  me  surged  a  black  mass  of  crowd 
ing,  jostling,  hurrying  beings,  so  far  removed  they 
seemed  like  little  dots,  each  as  large  and  no  larger 
than  his  fellows.  Above  them  stretched  the  same 
blue  arch  of  heaven,  they  breathed  the  same  air, 
trod  in  each  other's  footsteps;  and  yet  I  knew  they 
were  all  so  different  —  ignorance  walked  with 
enlightenment,  vice  with  virtue,  rich  with  poor,  low 
with  high.  But  I  felt,  poised  thus  above  them,  that 
they  were  all  merely  —  humans.  Go  once  thus,  and 
you  will  understand  the  feeling.  And  so  I  judged 
these  alien  brothers.  Which  was  greater;  which 
was  less?  This  one,  who  from  birth  and  inherit 
ance  is  able  to  stand  the  equal  of  anyone,  or  this 
one,  who  through  birth  and  inheritance  blinks 
equally  blindly  at  the  good  and  the  beautiful? 
Character  and  circumstance  are  not  altogether  of 
our  own  making.  They  are,  to  a  great  degree, 
results  of  inherited  tendencies  over  which  we  have 
no  control  —  accidents  of  birth,  in  the  choosing 
of  which  we  had  no  voice.  The  high  in  the  world 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  307 

do  not  always  shine  by  their  own  light,  nor  do  the 
lowly  always  grovel  through  their  own  debasement. 
I  felt  the  excuse  for  humanity.  I  was  overwhelmed 
with  one  idea:  only  Infinity  can  weigh  such  cir 
cumstantial  evidence.  We,  in  our  little  biased 
knowledge  of  time  and  place,  pronounce  sentence, 
but  final  judgment  is  reserved  for  a  higher  court, 
that  sees  the  cross-purposes  in  which  we  all  are 
blindly  caught.  We  shall  never  know  that  final 
judgment,  but  glimpsing  it,  here  a  little,  there  a 
little,  shall  we,  as  men  and  women,  not  strive 
toward  it? 

"  Below  me  prayed  Christian  and  Jew,  Moham 
medan  and  Buddhist,  pagan  and  atheist.  Why  was 
man  thus  separated  from  man?  Because  he  was 
born  so,  because  he  was  bred  so,  because  his  parents 
were  so  —  because,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  it 
seemed  natural  and  convenient  to  remain  so.  The 
tenth  case?  Ah,  we  shall  speak  of  that  —  but,  for 
all  the  others,  chance  and  environment  and  custom 
had  given  them  their  religion. 

"  Race?  We  know  that,  in  the  case  of  the  Jew, 
a  peculiar  adaptability  to  environment  has,  with  the 
progress  of  the  generations,  obliterated  all  dif 
ferences  except  one  —  the  historical.  And  shall 
that  —  in  all  its  ugliness  —  endure  forever  ? 

"  Because,    nearly    two    thousand   years   ago  — 


308  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

according  to  the  gospels  —  Jesus  Christ,  a  Jew  him 
self,  attacked  the  threatening  weaknesses  of  his  own 
people:  their  fall  from  the  loftiest  spirituality  down 
to  the  blind  materialism  of  the  day  —  the  Jews,  then^ 
powerful,  first  reviled,  then  feared,  then  slew  him. 
Because,  then,  the  Jew  could  not  honestly  say,  '  I 
believe  this  man  to  be  God  —  or  the  son  of  God/ 
according  to  their  meaning  of  the  term  God  —  be 
cause  they,  emerging  from  their  ghettoes  —  ghettoes 
of  preservation  as  well  as  of  deprivation  —  continue 
to  say,  '  I  need  no  intermediary  between  my  God 
and  myself/  are  they  so  widely  different  from  other 
men  that  they  need  be  dragged  in  the  dust?  Not  so. 
Shall  we  Jews  never  forgive  —  shall  you  non-Jews 
never  forget?  Will  prejudice  and  hate  be  forever? 

—  will  the  mind  of  man  remain  closed  forever  upon 
this  question  ?  —  But  God  forgives,  and  God  for 
gets.   For  what  is  God  ?  Justice  is  God  —  t  it  comes 
with  lame  foot,  but  it  comes ! '  —  and  Light  is  God 

—  and  Light  travels  from  man  to  man,  and  shall 
penetrate  even  into  the  darkest  pale  —  I  know  not 
how  —  insidiously  perhaps  —  through  some  great 
cataclysm  perhaps,  but  it  will  penetrate!    For  Love 
is  God,  and  the  Voice  of  Love  is  never  wholly 
hushed  —  and  everything  that  is  beautiful  and  good 
is  God  —  and  so  God's  in  the  world  —  And  so,  I 
hope!" 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  309 

The  visionary  looked  beyond  them ;  almost  in  his 
frail  casement,  he  seemed  to  have  slipped  beyond 
them,  his  voice  a  thin  spirit  of  sound.  They  leaned 
closer  to  hear. 

"  All  this  passed  vaguely  through  me  up  there 
upon  my  worldly  height.  But  only  when  I  came 
down  upon  the  street  did  it  take  form.  A  little 
raggedy  child  touched  me,  and  as  I  laid  my  hand 
upon  her  curly  head,  the  beam  fell  from  my  eyes  — 
the  eyes  of  my  humanity  —  and  I  knew  anew,  as 
Abraham  of  old  knew  anew,  that  there  is  one  God 
for  all  humans  —  though  '  man  has  sought  out 
many  inventions/ 

"  But  it  was  not  until  I  went  to  New  York  that 
the  emotions  I  had  so  deeply  experienced  took  on 
practical  shape.  There,  removed  from  my  old 
haunts  and  associates,  I  wandered  alone  where  I 
would.  Then  I  thought  of  you,  my  friend,  of  you, 
my  child  —  I  had  always,  subconsciously,  been 
thinking  of  you!  And  beside  you  I  was  pitiful  — 
pitiful,  because,  in  my  narrowness,  I  had  thought 
it  right  to  uphold  an  outworn  restriction.  I 
resolved  to  be  practical;  I  have  been  accused  of 
being  a  dreamer.  I  grasped  your  two  images  before 
me  and  drew  parallels :  Socially  —  in  my  opinion 
society  is  a  mutual  drawing  together  of  resem 
blances —  socially,  each  was  as  fair  as  the  other. 


310  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Mentally,  the  woman  was  of  the  same  stratum  as 
the  man.  Physically,  both  were  perfect  types  of 
pure,  healthy  blood.  Morally,  both  were  irreproach 
able.  Religiously,  both  held  a  broad,  abiding  love 
for  man  and  God.  I  stood  convicted.  I  was  in 
the  position  of  a  blind  reactionary  who,  with  a 
beautiful  picture  before  him,  fastens  his  critical, 
condemning  gaze  upon  a  rusting  nail  in  the  wall 
behind  —  a  nail  even  now  loosened,  and  which, 
some  day,  please  God,  shall  fall.  Yet  what  was  I 
to  do?  Come  back  and  tell  you  that  I  had  been 
needlessly  cruel?  What  would  that  avail?  True, 
I  might  make  you  believe  that  7  no  longer  thought 
marriage  between  you  wrong.  But  that  would  not 
remove  the  fact  that  the  world  which  has  so  power 
ful  a  voice  in  our  happiness  or  unhappiness,  does 
not  yet  see  as  I  see  —  that,  because  of  the  rest  of 
the  world,  marriage  between  you  two  must  still  be 
a  grave  experiment. 

"  In  this  vortex  I  was  stricken  ill.  All  the  while 
I  wanted  to  hurry  to  you,  to  tell  you  how  it  was 
with  me,  and  it  seemed  as  though  I  would  never  be 
able  to  get  to  you.  '  Is  this  Nemesis/  I  thought, 
'  or  divine  interposition  ?  '  So  I  struggled,  till  Louis 
came.  Then  all  was  easier.  I  told  him  everything 
and  said,  '  Louis,  what  shall  I  do  ?  '  '  Only  this/ 
he  answered  simply:  *  tell  them  that  their  happy 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  311 

marriage  will  be  your  happiness,  and  the  rest  of 
the  world  will  be  as  nothing  to  these  two  who  love 
each  other.'  " 

The  old  man  paused;  the  little  sunbeam  had 
reached  the  end  of  the  coverlet  and  gave  a  leap 
upon  Louis's  shoulder  as  if  with  intent,  but  his  gaze 
remained  fixed  upon  the  cupids  on  the  ceiling. 
Ruth  had  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  Mrs. 
Levice  was  softly  weeping,  her  eyes  on  Louis.  Dr. 
Kemp  had  risen  and  stood,  tall  and  pale,  meeting 
Levice's  eyes. 

"  I  believe,  and  my  wife  believes,"  said  Levice, 
heavily,  as  if  the  words  were  so  many  burdens, 
"  that  our  child  will  be  happy  only  as  your  wife, 
and  that  nothing  should  stand  in  the  way  of  the  con 
summation  of  this  happiness.  Dr.  Kemp,  you  have 
assured  me  you  still  love  my  daughter.  Ruth !  " 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  looking  only  at  her  father. 

"  My  little  one,"  he  faltered,  "  I  have  been  very 
cruel  —  in  my  ignorance." 

"  Never,  never,  father,"  she  whispered. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  and  took  her  hand  in  his. 
"  Kemp,  your  hand,  please." 

He  grasped  his  hand  and  drew  the  two  together, 
and  as  Kemp's  strong  hand  closed  firmly  over  her 
slender  one,  Levice  stooped  his  head,  kissed  them 
thus  clasped,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  them. 


312  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,"  he  said.  "  At  the 
utmost  I  have  but  a  few  days  to  live.  I  shall  not 
see  your  happiness :  I  shall  not  see  you,  my  Ruth, 
as  I  have  often  pictured  you.  Ah,  well,  darling,  a 
father  may  be  permitted  sweet  dreams  of  his  only 
child.  You  have  always  been  a  good  girl,  and  now 
I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  do  one  thing  more  —  you 
also,  doctor.  Will  you  be  married  now,  this  day, 
here,  so  that  I  may  yet  bless  your  new  life?  Will 
you  let  me  see  this?  And  listen:  will  you  let  the 
world  know  that  you  were  married  with  my  sanc 
tion,  and  did  not  have  to  wait  till  the  old  man  was 
dead?  Will  you  do  this  for  me,  my  dear  ones?  " 

"Will  you,  Ruth?"  asked  Kemp,  softly,  his 
fingers  pressing  hers  gently. 

Ruth  stifled  a  sob  as  she  met  her  father's  eager 
eyes. 

"  I  will,"  she  answered  so  low  that  only  the 
intense  silence  in  the  room  made  it  audible. 

Levice  separated  their  hands  and  held  one  on 
each  of  his  cheeks. 

"  Always  doing  things  for  her  ugly  old  father," 
he  murmured ;  "  this  time  giving  up  a  pretty  wed 
ding-day  that  all  girls  so  love!  " 

"  Oh,  hush,  my  darling." 

"  You  will  have  no  guests  —  unless,  doctor,  there 
is  someone  you  would  like  to  have." 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  313 

"  I  think  not,"  he  decided,  noting  professionally 
the  pale,  weary  face.  "  We  will  have  it  all  as  quiet 
as  possible.  You  must  rest  now,  and  leave  every 
thing  to  me.  Would  you  prefer  Dr.  Stephens  —  or 
a  Justice?" 

"  Either.  Dr.  Stephens  is  a  good  man,  whom  I 
know,  however,  and  one  good  man  with  the  legal 
right  is  as  good  as  another  to  marry  you." 

There  was  little  more  said  then.  Kemp  turned  to 
Mrs.  Levice  and  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips. 
Arnold  confronted  him  with  a  pale,  smiling  face; 
the  two  men  wrung  each  other's  hands,  passing  out 
together  immediately  after. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

HERBERT  KEMP  and  Dr.  Stephens  stood 
quietly  talking  to  Mr.  Levice.  The  latter 
seemed  weaker  since  his  exertion  of  the  morning, 
and  his  head  lay  back  among  the  pillows  as  if  the 
support  were  necessary.  Still,  his  eager  eyes  were 
keenly  fastened  upon  the  close-lipped  mouth  and 
broad,  speaking  brow  of  the  minister  who  spoke  so 
quietly  and  pleasantly.  Kemp,  pale  and  handsome, 
answered  fitfully  when  appealed  to,  and  kept  an 
expectant  eye  upon  the  door.  When  Ruth  entered, 
he  went  forward  to  meet  her,  his  hand  closing  over 
hers.  They  had  had  no  word  together,  no  meeting 
of  any  kind  but  right  here  in  the  morning,  and  now, 
as  she  walked  toward  the  bed,  the  gentle  smile  that 
came  as  far  as  her  eyes  was  all  for  her  father. 
Thought  could  hold  no  rival  for  him  that  day. 

"  This  is  Miss  Levice,  Dr.  Stephens,"  said  Kemp, 
presenting  them.  A  swift  look  of  wonderment 
passed  under  the  reverend  gentleman's  beetle-brows 
as  he  bent  over  her  hand.  Could  this  tall,  beautiful 
girl  be  the  daughter  of  little  Jules  Levice?  Where 

314 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  315 

did  she  get  that  regal  bearing,  that  mobile  and 
expressive  mouth?  The  explanation  was  sufficient 
when  Mrs.  Levice  entered. 

They  stood  talking,  not  much,  but  in  that  wander 
ing,  obligatory  way  that  precedes  any  undertaking. 
They  were  waiting  for  Arnold ;  he  came  in  presently 
with  a  bunch  of  pale  heliotropes.  He  always  looked 
well  and  in  character  when  dressed  for  some  social 
event;  it  was  as  if  he  were  made  for  this  style  of 
dress,  not  the  style  for  him.  The  delicate  pink  of 
his  cheeks  was  more  like  the  damask  skin  of  a  young 
girl  than  ever;  his  eyes,  however,  behind  their 
glasses,  looked  old.  As  he  handed  Ruth  the  flowers, 
he  said  — 

"  I  asked  the  doctor  to  allow  me  to  give  you  these. 
Will  you  hold  them  —  with  my  love  ?  " 

"  They  are  both  very  dear  to  me,"  she  replied, 
raising  the  flowers  to  her  lips. 

Their  fragrance  filled  the  room  while  the  simple 
ceremony  was  being  performed.  It  was  a  striking 
picture,  and  one  not  likely  to  be  forgotten.  Levice's 
eyes  filled  with  proud,  pardonable  tears  as  he  looked 
upon  his  daughter  —  for  never  had  she  looked  as 
today  in  her  simple  white  gown,  her  face  like  a 
magnolia  bud,  sadly  dreamy.  Standing  next  to 
Kemp,  they  made  a  striking-looking  couple.  Even 
Arnold,  with  his  heart  like  a  crushed  ball  of  lead, 


316  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

acknowledged  it  in  bitter  resignation.  For  him  the 
scene  was  one  of  those  silent,  purgatorial  moments 
that  are  approached  with  senses  steeled  and  thought 
held  in  a  vice.  To  the  others  it  passed  as  if  it  were 
happening  in  a  dream.  Even  when  Kemp  stooped 
and  pressed  his  lips  for  the  first  time  upon  his  wife's, 
the  real  significance  of  what  had  taken  place  was 
far  away  to  Ruth;  the  present  held  but  one  thing 
in  prominence  —  the  shadowy  face  upon  the  pillow. 
She  felt  her  mother's  arms  around  her;  she  knew 
that  Louis  had  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips,  that  she 
had  drawn  his  head  down  and  kissed  him,  that 
Kemp  was  standing  silently  beside  her,  that  the 
minister  had  spoken  some  gravely  pleasant  words; 
but  all  the  while  she  wanted  to  tear  herself  away 
from  it  all  and  fold  that  eager,  loving,  dying  face 
close  to  hers.  She  was  allowed  to  do  so  finally ;  and 
when  she  was  drawn  into  the  weak,  outstretched 
arms,  there  was  only  the  long  silence  of  love. 

Kemp  had  left  the  room  with  Dr.  Stephens,  hav 
ing  a  further  favor  to  intrust  to  him.  The  short 
announcement  of  this  marriage,  which  Dr.  Stephens 
gave  for  insertion  in  the  evening  papers,  created  a 
world  of  comment. 

When  Kemp  reentered,  Levice  called  him  to  him, 
holding  out  his  hand.  The  doctor  grasped  it  in  the 
firm  clasp  which  was  always  a  tonic. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  317 

"Will  you  kneel?"  asked  Levice;  Kemp  knelt 
beside  his  wife,  and  the  old  father  f alter ingly  spoke 
the  beautiful  words  that  held  a  double  solemnity 
now: 

"  '  The  Lord  —  bless  thee  —  and  keep  thee. 

"  *  The  Lord  —  make  his  face  to  shine  upon  thee 

—  and  be  gracious  unto  thee. 

"  '  The  Lord  lift  up  his  countenance  —  upon  thee 

—  and   give    thee   peace    — and  —  give  —  thee  — 
peace  — '" 

The  words  trailed  off  into  space,  holding  them  in 
echoing  benediction. 

In  the  sweet  echoes  of  it  they  arose  and  stood 
silent  beside  him,  while  Ruth,  with  full  eyes,  laid 
her  hand  in  his. 

"  I  think,  dear,"  he  murmured  smiling  wistfully 
up  at  her,  "  I'll  close  my  eyes  now.  I  am  —  very  — 
tired." 

She  moved  to  draw  down  the  shades. 

"  Don't  close  out  all  the  sun,"  the  faint  voice 
said.  "  I  love  it  —  it's  an  old  friend  — .  After 
all,  I  don't  think  I'll  sleep.  Let  me  lie  here  and 
look  at  you  all  awhile.  Louis,  my  boy,  must  you 
go?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  replied,  and,  turning  from  the  door, 
went  back  to  his  chair. 

"Thank  you;  and  now  don't  think  of  me.     Go 


318  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

on  talking — it  will  be  a  foretaste  of  something  — 
better  —  to  lie  here  and  listen.  Esther,  are  you 
cold  ?  I  felt  a  shudder  go  through  your  hand,  love. 
Ruth,  give  your  mother  a  shawl  —  don't  forget 
that  —  sometimes  —  someone  should  see  that  your 
mother  is  not  —  cold.  Just  talk,  will  you  ?  " 

So  they  talked  —  that  is,  the  men  did.  Their 
grave,  deep  voices  and  the  heavy  breathing  of  the 
invalid  were  the  only  sounds  in  the  room.  Finally, 
as  the  twilight  stole  in,  it  was  quite  still.  Levice 
had  dropped  into  a  sort  of  stupor.  Kemp  arose  then. 

"  I'll  be  back  presently,"  he  said,  addressing  Mrs. 
Levice,  who  started  sharply  as  he  spoke.  "  I  have 
some  few  directions  to  give  to  my  man  that  I 
entirely  forgot." 

"  Couldn't  we  send  someone  ?  You  mustn't  stay 
away  now." 

"  I'll  return  immediately.  Mr.  Levice  doesn't 
need  me  while  he  sleeps,  and  the  instructions  are  im 
portant.  Don't  stir,  Arnold ;  I  know  my  way  out." 

Nevertheless  Arnold  accompanied  him  to  the 
door.  Ruth  gave  little  heed  to  their  movements. 
Her  agitated  heart  had  grasped  the  fact  that  the 
lines  upon  her  father's  face  had  grown  weaker  and 
paler,  his  breathing  shorter  and  more  rasping; 
when  she  passed  him  and  touched  his  hand,  it 
seemed  cold  and  lifeless. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  319 

At  nine  the  doctor  came  in  again  —  the  only 
appreciable  difference  in  his  going  or  coming  being 
that  no  one  rose  or  made  any  formal  remarks.  He 
went  up  to  the  bed  and  placed  his  hand  on  the  sleep 
ing  head.  Mrs.  Levice  moved  her  chair  slightly  as 
he  seated  himself  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and  took 
Levice's  hand.  Ruth,  watching  him  with  wide, 
distended  eyes,  thought  he  would  never  drop  it. 
Her  senses,  sharpened  by  suffering,  read  every 
change  on  his  face.  As  he  withdrew  his  hand,  she 
gave  one  long,  involuntary  moan.  He  turned 
quickly  to  her. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  asked,  his  grave  eyes  scanning 
her  anxiously. 

"  Nothing,"  she  responded.  It  was  the  first  word 
she  had  spoken  to  him  since  the  afternoon  ceremony. 
He  turned  back  to  Levice,  lowering  his  ear  to  his 
chest.  After  a  faint,  almost  imperceptible  pause  he 
rose. 

"  I  think  you  had  all  better  lie  down,"  he  said 
softly.  "  I  will  sit  with  him,  and  you  all  need  rest." 

"  I  couldn't  rest,"  said  Mrs.  Levice ;  "  this  chair 
is  all  I  need." 

"If  you  would  lie  on  the  couch  here,"  he  urged, 
"  you  would  find  the  position  easier." 

"  No,  no !    I  couldn't." 

He  looked  at  Ruth. 


320  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

11  I'll  go  by  and  by,"  she  answered. 

Arnold  had  long  since  gone  out. 

Ruth's  "  by  and  by  "  stretched  on  interminably. 
Kemp  took  up  the  Argonaut  which  lay  folded  on 
the  table.  He  did  not  read  much,  his  eyes  straying 
from  the  printed  page  before  him  to  the  "  finis  " 
slowly  writing  itself  upon  Jules  Levice's  face,  and 
thence  to  Ruth's  pale  profile.  She  was  crying  —  so 
quietly,  however,  that,  but  for  the  visible  tears,  an 
onlooker  might  not  have  known  it;  she  herself  did 
not  —  her  heart  was  silently  overflowing. 

Toward  morning  Levice  suddenly  sprang  up  in 
bed  and  made  as  if  to  leap  upon  the  floor.  Kemp's 
quick,  strong  hand  held  him  back. 

11  Where  are  you  going?  "  he  asked.  Mrs.  Levice 
stood  instantly  beside  him. 

"  Oh,"  gasped  Levice,  his  eyes  falling  upon  her, 
"  I  wanted  to  get  home  —  but  it's  all  right  now.  Is 
the  child  in  bed,  Esther?-' 

"  Here  she  is.    Lie  still,  Jules;  you  are  ill." 

"  But  not  now.  Ah,  Kemp,  I  can  get  up  now ;  I 
am  quite  well,  you  know." 

"  Wait  till  morning,"  he  resisted,  humoring  the 
familiar  symptom. 

"  But  it's  morning  now,  and  I  feel  so  light  and 
well.  Let  in  the  light,  Ruth.  See,  Esther  —  a 
beautiful  day!  " 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  321 

It  was  quite  dark  with  the  darkness  that  imme 
diately  precedes  dawn;  the  windows  were  be 
spangled  with  the  distillations  of  the  night,  which 
gleamed  as  the  light  fell  on  them. 

Mrs.  Levice  seated  herself  beside  him. 

"  It  is  very  early,  Jules,"  she  said,  smiling  with 
hope,  not  knowing  that  this  deceptive  flash  was  but 
the  rose-flush  of  the  sinking  sun,  "  but  if  you  feel 
well,  when  day  breaks,  you  can  get  up.  Can't  he, 
doctor?" 

"  Yes." 

Levice  lay  back  with  closed  eyes  for  some  min 
utes.  A  quivering  smile  crossed  his  face  and  his 
eyes  opened.  "  Were  you  singing  that  song  just 
now,  Ruth,  my  angel  ?  " 

"What  song,  father  dear?" 

"  That  —  Adieu  —  adieu  —  pays  —  amours  — 
we  sang  it  —  you  know  —  when  we  left  home  to 
gether  —  my  mother  said  —  I  was  too  small  —  too 
small  —  and  —  too  —  " 

Ruth  looked  around  wildly  for  Kemp.  He  had 
left  the  room;  she  must  go  for  him.  As  she  came 
into  the  hall,  she  saw  him  and  Louis  hurriedly 
advancing  up  the  corridor.  Seeing  her,  they  reached 
her  side  in  a  breath. 

"  Go,"  she  whispered  through  pale  lips.  "  He 
can't  breathe  —  he  can't  —  " 


322  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

Kemp  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Stay  here  a  second.    It  will  be  quite  peaceful." 

She  looked  at  him  in  agony,  and  walked  blindly 
in  after  Louis. 

He  was  lying  as  they  had  left  him,  with  Mrs. 
Levice's  hand  in  his. 

"  Keep  tight  hold,  darling/'  the  rattling  voice 
was  saying.  "  Don't  take  it  off  till  —  another  takes 
it  —  it  will  —  not  be  hard  then."  Suddenly  he  saw 
Louis  standing  pale  and  straight  at  the  foot  of  the 
bed. 

"  My  good  boy,"  he  faltered,  "  my  good  boy,  God 
will  bless  —  "  His  eyes  closed  again ;  paler  and 
paler  grew  his  face. 

"  Father !  "  cried  Ruth  in  agony. 

He  looked  toward  her,  smiling. 

"  The  sweetest  word,"  he  murmured,  "  it  was  — 
my  glory." 

Silence.  A  soul  is  passing,  a  simple,  loving  soul, 
giving  no  trouble  in  its  passage  —  dropping  the  toils, 
expanding  into  spirit.  Not  utterly  gone:  immor 
tality  is  assured  us  in  the  hearts  that  have  touched 
ours  —  in  the  heaven  of  beautiful  memories. 

Silence.  A  shadow  falls,  and  Jules  Levice's  work 
is  done.  And  the  first  sunbeams  crept  about  him, 
lay  at  his  feet  a  moment,  touched  the  quiet  hands, 
fell  on  the  head  in  benediction,  and  rested  there. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ROSE  DELANO  seated  herself  opposite  her 
friend  in  the  library  the  Thursday  evening 
after  the  funeral.  They  looked  so  different  in  the 
waning  light  —  Ruth  in  soft  black,  her  white  face 
shining  like  a  lily  above  her  somber  gown,  Rose, 
like  a  bright  fire-fly,  perched  on  a  cricket,  her  cheeks 
rosy,  her  eyes  sparkling  from  walking  against  the 
sharp,  cold  wind.  "  I  thought  you  would  be  quiet 
at  this  hour,"  she  said. 

"  We  are  always  quiet  now,"  Ruth  answered 
softly.  "  Friends  come  and  go,  but  we  are  very 
quiet.  It  does  me  good  to  see  you,  Rosebud." 

"Does  it?"  her  sweet  eyes  smiled  happily.  "  I 
was  longing  to  drop  in  if  only  to  hold  your  hand 
for  a  minute,  but  I  didn't  know  exactly  where  to 
find  you." 

"  Why,  where  could  I  be  but  here?  " 

"  I  thought  possibly  you  had  gone  to  your  hus 
band's  home." 

For  a  second  Ruth  looked  at  her  wonderingly; 
then  the  slow  rich  color  mounted,  inch  by  inch,  back 

323 


324  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

to  her  little  ears  till  her  face  was  one  rosy,  be 
wildered  cloud. 

"  No;  I've  stayed  right  on." 

"  I  saw  the  doctor  today,"  Rose  chatted.  "  He 
looks  pale.  Is  he  too  busy?  " 

"  I  don't  know  —  that  is,  I  suppose  so.  How 
are  the  lessons,  Rose  ?  " 

"  Everything  is  improving  wonderfully.  I  am 
so  happy,  dear  Mrs.  Kemp,  and  what  I  longed  to 
say  was  that  every  happiness  and  every  blessing 
would,  I  pray,  fall  on  you  two  who  have  been  so 
much  to  me.  Miss  Gwynne  told  me  that  to  do  good 
was  your  birthright.  She  said  that  the  funeral, 
with  its  vast  gathering  of  friends,  rich,  poor,  old, 
young,  strong,  and  crippled,  of  all  grades  of  society, 
was  a  revelation  of  his  life  —  even  to  those  who 
thought  they  knew  him  best.  You  should  feel  very 
proud." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Ruth,  her  eyes  quickly  suffused 
with  tears. 

They  sat  quietly  thus  for  some  time,  till  Rose, 
rising  from  her  cricket,  kissed  her  friend  silently 
and  went  away. 

The  waning  light  fell  softly  through  the  lace 
curtains,  printing  quaint  arabesques  on  the  walls 
and  furniture  and  bathing  the  room  in  a  rich  yellow 
light.  A  carriage  rolled  up  in  front  of  the  house. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  325 

Dr.  Kemp  handed  the  reins  to  his  man  and  alighted. 
He  walked  slowly  up  to  the  door.  It  was  very  still 
about  the  house  in  the  evening  twilight.  He  pushed 
his  hat  back  on  his  head  and  looked  up  at  the  clear 
blue  sky,  as  if  the  keen  breeze  were  pleasant  to  his 
temples.  Then  with  a  quick  motion,  as  though 
overruling  a  hesitation,  he  turned  and  rang  the  bell. 
The  latchkey  of  the  householder  was  not  his. 

Ruth,  sitting  in  the  shadows,  had  scarcely  heard 
the  ring.  She  was  absorbed  in  a  new  train  of 
thought.  Rose  Delano  was  the  first  one  who  had 
clearly  recalled  to  her  the  fact  that  she  was  really 
married.  She  had  been  very  quiet  with  her  other 
friends,  and  everyone,  looking  at  her  grief-stricken 
face,  had  shrunk  from  mentioning  what  would  have 
called  for  congratulation.  Rose,  who  knew  only 
these  two,  naturally  dwelt  on  their  changed  rela 
tions.  —  Her  husband !  Her  dormant  love  gave  an 
exultant  bound.  Wave  upon  wave  of  emotion  beat 
upon  her  heart ;  she  sprang  to  her  feet  —  the  door 
opened,  and  he  came  in.  He  saw  her  standing 
faintly  outlined  in  the  dark. 

"  Good-evening,"  he  said,  coming  slowly  toward 
her  with  extended  hand.  He  felt  her  fingers  tremble 
in  his  close  clasp,  and  let  them  fall  slowly.  "  Bob 
sent  you  these  early  violets.  Shall  I  light  the  gas  ?  " 

"  If  you  will." 


326  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

He  turned  from  her  and  rapidly  filled  the  room 
with  light. 

"Where  is  your  mother?"  he  asked,  turning 
toward  her  again.  Her  face  was  hidden  in  the 
violets. 

"  Upstairs  with  Louis.  They  had  something  to 
arrange.  Would  you  like  to  see  her?  "  Judging 
from  her  manner,  he  might  have  been  any  chance 
visitor. 

"  No/'  he  replied.  "If  you  will  sit  down,  we  can 
talk  quietly  till  they  come  in." 

As  she  resumed  her  high-backed  chair  and  he 
seated  himself  in  another  before  her,  he  was  in 
stantly  struck  by  some  new  change  in  her  face.  The 
far-away,  impersonal  look  with  which  she  had  met 
him  in  these  sad  days  had  been  what  he  had  ex 
pected,  and  he  had  curbed  with  a  strong  will  every 
impulse  for  any  closer  recognition.  But  this  new 
look  —  what  did  it  mean  ?  In  the  effort  to  appear 
unconcerned  the  quick  color  had  risen  to  his  own 
cheeks. 

"  I  had  quite  a  pleasant  little  encounter  today," 
he  observed.  "  Shall  I  tell  it  to  you?  " 

"  If  it  won't  tire  you." 

Keeping  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  picture  over  her 
head,  he  did  not  see  the  look  of  anxious  love  flood 
ing  into  her  eyes  as  they  swept  over  him. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  327 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  responded,  slightly  smiling  over  the 
recollection.  "  I  was  coming  down  my  office  steps 
this  afternoon,  and  had  just  reached  the  foot,  when 
a  bright-faced,  bright-haired  boy  stood  before  me 
with  an  eager  light  in  his  eyes.  '  Aren't  you  Dr. 
Kemp  ?  '  he  asked  breathlessly,  like  one  who  had 
been  running.  I  recollected  him  the  instant  he 
raised  his  hat  from  his  nimbus  of  golden  hair. 
*  Yes ;  and  you  are  Will  Tyrrell,'  I  answered 
promptly.  *  Why,  how  did  you  remember  ?  '  he 
asked  in  surprise.  '  You  only  saw  me  once.' 
1  Never  mind ;  I  remember  that  night,'  I  assured 
him.  '  How  is  that  baby  sister  of  yours?  '  '  Oh, 
she's  all  right,'  he  replied,  dismissing  the  subject 
with  the  royalty  brotherhood  confers.  '  I  say,  do 
you  ever  see  Miss  Levice  nowadays  ?  '  I  looked  at 
him  with  a  half -smile,  not  knowing  whether  to  set 
him  right  or  not,  when  he  finally  blurted  out,  '  She's 
the  finest  girl  I  ever  met.  Do  you  know  her  well, 
doctor?  '  '  Well,'  I  answered,  '  I  know  her  slightly 
—  she's  my  wife.'  " 

He  told  the  little  incident  brightly,  but  as  he 
came  to  the  end,  his  voice  gradually  lowered,  and 
as  he  pronounced  the  last  word,  his  eyes  sought 
hers.  Her  eyelids  fluttered;  her  breath  seemed 
suspended. 

"  I  said  —  you  were  my  wife,"  he  repeated  softly, 


328  OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL 

leaning  forward,  his  hands  grasping  the  chair-arms. 

"And  what,"  asked  Ruth,  an  excited  little  ring 
in  her  voice  —  "  what  did  Will  say?  " 

'"Who  cares?"  he  asked  unsteadily.  "Ruth, 
have  you  completely  forgotten  what  we  are  to  each 
other?" 

She  arose,  moving  with  beautiful  swiftness  to 
him  as  he  stood  up  with  outheld  arms.  "  No,  I 
haven't  forgotten,"  she  said  simply,  laying  her  hands 
upon  his  shoulders,  but  holding  him  from  her  while 
her  eyes  gazed  gravely  into  his.  "  We  are  every 
thing  to  each  other.  We  are  —  all  the  world  to 
each  other.  We  are  —  the  past,  present,  and  future 
to  each  other  —  we  are  husband  and  wife." 

Reverently  he  drew  her  to  him  in  all  her  loveli 
ness. 

A  little  later  Mrs.  Levice  and  Arnold  came  in. 
Mrs.  Levice,  entering  first,  stood  still,  and  Arnold, 
following,  saw  too,  and  the  sight  drained  every 
drop  of  blood  from  his  face.  For  a  moment  they 
were  unseen,  but  when  Ruth,  the  first  to  feel  their 
presence,  started  from  Kemp,  Arnold  came  forward 
with  his  accustomed  ease. 

"  We  are  intruding,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"Oh,  no,"  laughed  Ruth,  absently  watching 
Kemp  draw  her  mother  into  a  comfortable  chair. 


OTHER  THINGS  BEING  EQUAL  329 

"  We  were  only  —  we  were  thinking,  mother  dear, 
that  it  will  do  you  good  to  come  out  of  this  great 
house  to  our  little  one  —  till  we  find  something  more 
suited  to  our  needs  —  that  is,  if  Louis  can  spare 
you." 

Sorrow  had  laid  its  quieting  hand  upon  Mrs. 
Levice,  ageing  her,  perhaps,  but  touching  her  with 
a  twilight  beauty.  Yearning  for  a  lost  love,  wist 
fully  she  sought  to  find  it  by  giving  love  to  others. 
Now  she  looked  across  to  Louis,  who  stood  beside 
a  table,  turning  the  pages  of  a  book. 

"  It  is  very  sweet  to  be  wanted  by  you  all  now," 
she  said,  her  voice  trembling  slightly.  "  But  I  never 
could  leave  this  house  to  strangers  —  every  room 
is  too  full  of  associations,  too  full  of  his  presence. 
At  least,  not  yet,  my  dear  ones.  Presently  —  in  a 
few  weeks,  I  am  going  for  a  short  trip  south,  with 
Louis.  That's  settled,  isn't  it,  Louis  ?  " 

He  looked  up  then. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  smiling  quietly  into  Ruth's  quest 
ing  eyes.  "  We  have  settled  that.  You  don't  need 
her  —  now.  And  I  do." 

And  so  the  future  took  them. 


THE    END 


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